Gabriel
by ebonyflamez
Summary: This is the sequal to A Broken Hallelujah set a month later... Angel and Spike are happy in their lives but faces from the past are on their way to destroy that and maybe even Angel in the process... COMPLETE!
1. Contentment

He hadn't been to LA in years. It had changed. It was a city of light now – even in the dead of night. He wouldn't have come here at all, but the rumours were just too enticing for the vampire to ignore. As he stood on the roof of the hotel he had taken up residence in, the gentle breeze causing his coat to billow out behind like a cape, he found that the rumours were true. He could smell him here. His scent danced on the wind, calling to him like the most elusive siren's song. He couldn't wait to find him again.

Sunlight streamed into the bedroom and gently caressed the two lovers that were wrapped around each other. In the middle of a large oak framed bed, sprawled over the dark blue sheets was a pale lithe form. His white skin was luminescent in contrast to the sheets and provided the perfect backdrop to his sapphire blue eyes. The shock of platinum hair was sleep and sex ruffled and gave him a child like appearance. The small but extremely well toned body spoke of grace and sex but gave no clue as to the power that it contained. The power that would be unleashed should any threat come to the figure curled around his body, seeking the comfort that only he could give it.

Spike pulled Angel further into his body. He had never in his entire existence felt quite so satisfied or loved. He had never been given the chance to love as he needed to. For one hundred years he had wanted to possess the body that he was holding on to but he wanted the body to have been given freely in the first place. He knew that he had no clause on his soul at that moment; if he had he would have lost it the minute that Angel begged him to never leave. He wasn't going anywhere. The claim on Angel bound him to Spike but it also held Angel's soul. He couldn't believe that Angel had given up control to him of all people but he could tell that Angel needed him to look after him. Spike swore that he would walk into the sun before allowing anyone else to harm his Angel. His Claim.

They had spent the past month in the sweet bliss of talking and fucking. Although Spike would tell other people they were fucking he knew that it was a lie. Angel couldn't handle brutal sex. For the time being he needed worshipping, slow and gentle and heart-breakingly sweet love making was all that they had done. Spike couldn't get enough of the milky skin or the dark hair. He needed to touch, stroke, kiss every inch of the body that he owned and Angel needed those touches. He was starved of affection and he craved physical contact so much so that he shivered involuntarily every time that Spike had touched him. Spike was never giving up that power.

Angel stirred. For the first time ever he slept safe, the dreams held at bay by a pair of strong arms that never left him; and it had been going on for a month. For the first time in his long life he felt like he had come home. He needed Spike more than anything and knew that he'd end up dead should Spike walk away from him. He buried into the sleep warmed skin and elicited a chuckle from his master. Spike owned him now body and soul and Angel could only hope that Spike wouldn't abuse that power. Others had before, but Spike could break him as this was the first time he had given up the power willingly.

"You awake Baby?"

"No… sleepin."

Angel snuggled in further. He had no desire to get out of bed this morning for three reasons. The first was that he would have to leave the cocoon of safety that they had built up here in the penthouse, away from the world. The second was that a he would have to strap back on the armour that he had removed under Spike's care over the weekend. That would be harder than taking it off and he wasn't sure that he would be able to keep pulling it on and off. One day he just might not have the energy. If that happened he wasn't sure that he would be able to cope and do what he had to. The third was no more than a feeling; an unpleasant coil deep in his belly that squirmed uncomfortably. He knew that something was coming; something that he feared would destroy the happiness that he had found. He felt safe and loved for everything that he was for the first time in his entire existence and he had the most awful feeling that it was about to be torn away from him.

Spike rolled them so that he was lying on top of his lover. He eased himself into Angel gently. "Can't go back to sleep luv, its Monday. You need to get that beautiful ass out of bed and go to work. Don't fret Peaches, 'm not leavin you to face the world alone though. Not leavin you at all, remember?"

Spike started to rock his body slowly, small thrusts, which would bring them both to a sweet and fulfilling climax. He began to kiss Angel's face and neck. He ran his hands through the dark hair and grinned as he felt Angel begin to stroke his back, clawing and pulling at him as his need grew. Gently, Spike slipped his fangs into the marks on Angel's neck and felt Angel shudder below him as he came. The tightening of his ass and the taste of his blood brought Spike's release, his cry muffled into the corded neck under his mouth.

He looked down on his lover's peaceful face. He could feel through the claim and the blood what was wrong with Angel. He could see his pet's thoughts, he could feel them when Angel was stressed and he wanted nothing more than to take them away.

"I know you're worried but remember when you were worried bout what your little human's were gonna think pet? I didn't let them take you from me, did I Angel? Trust me yeah? Nothin's gonna come between us."

Spike was right. The first morning that they had woken together Angel had panicked about the whole situation. He feared that his friends would make him chose, that they would make him give Spike up. Spike had merely kissed his fears away. He'd told Angel that there was nothing that anyone could do to get rid of him. That he was possessive and that Angel was his and that his friends would have to deal with it. Spike had told him that he was not going to be a secret; they would have to tell his friends. He said that he had done that before, he had been Buffy's secret and he couldn't, no wouldn't, do it again. He did say that they didn't have to tell them about the claiming.

That was still their secret. It made Angel safer that way. They both knew that if Wolfram and Hart found out that Spike had a claim on Angel, something that was more binding for a vampire than any signed contract, they would act. They had spent five years trying to get Angel in one way or another, they weren't about to let him get away now. So they had kept that a secret, but they had told his friends. Angel remembered that evening so clearly that he could simply step back in time and touch it.

They had all gathered in Angel's penthouse and Angel had ordered Chinese. They opened a bottle of wine and Fred had brought some movies with her, they ranged from Pretty Woman to Monty Python and Kill Bill. Angel needed to talk to them first and he had got their attention stuttering all the time. Unable to get the words out Spike had had to take over which he had done in his usual subtle manner. He had simply said "Me and Angel are together now. Anyone with a problem – get over it!" and it was all out in the open.

Fred had been happy for them. She was an old romantic at heart and saw it as two lovers reunited after a century apart and they didn't have the heart to correct her. Lorne hadn't seemed that surprised, he said something about their fighting being a classic avoidance technique. He then pulled Spike to one side and Angel didn't catch what was said, he was too busy fending off Wes' worries about his soul, Spike's soul and working at Wolfram and Hart whilst trying to have a relationship. It took them a while to calm him down but he seemed happy with the fact that they weren't going to lose their souls and if they did he had a restoration one to hand and that they were going to keep their relationship out of the office. They explained that neither of them wanted to be used as pawns against the other but that they had to tell their friends. Gunn seemed a little freaked out but assured them that if they gave him time and didn't flaunt the couple thing in front of him he'd be fine.

Riding on the confidence that their acceptance and well wishes had given him Angel decided to tell them about the dreams. He left out Spike's involvement and emphasised Hell more than the real life events. It took him nearly an hour to tell them everything and Spike had stroked his back and hands the whole time. He had felt safe telling them. He hadn't even cried this time. Fred did and he ended up hugging her at the end of it all. Lorne of course knew and Wes seemed to have guessed but was horrified all the same. Gunn had felt sick at the idea of what had happened to his friend, but Angel assured them that he would be fine. They all made him promise to tell them if they came back or if they changed in any way. Eventually, after a lot of tears and revelations, they did get round to watching a movie. Wes and Fred curled up in one armchair, Gunn sprawled across the floor with his back to the chair that Lorne was sat in and Angel lay back against Spike on the sofa. All in all it was a comfortable evening and Angel felt closer to his friends than he had for a very long time.

Angel brought himself back to the present to find Spike staring at him with a confused and adoring look on his face. He wanted to know where Angel had been and if Angel agreed with him. Angel didn't answer he just leaned up and kissed Spike gently, pouring all of his gratitude into the kiss. He could do this. In here he could break and bend and out there he would be the strong and steady Angel everyone knew.

It took them a full hour to get ready that morning. They both agreed, despite some pouting on Angel's part, that showering together on before work was not a good idea, they tended to get too distracted. They made this rule every Monday morning and it had always been broken by Wednesday at the latest. This new Angel was a revelation to Spike. He was needy and not afraid to show that. Spike had never thought that Angel would be the type to indulge in public displays of affection but he was. It was as if he had never felt safe enough to do it. Spike decided that he should let Angel go down to the office on his own. He spent the rest of the day finishing off packing up his apartment and moving his stuff to Angel's. It had taken him a month to move, simply because they tended to get distracted and he was lazy. He wanted to finish now though; he couldn't bear to be apart from Angel anymore. He also spent a large portion of his time annoying Angel. Now however, it was tinged with love and affection rather than hate and bitterness.

It was a busy day for all at Wolfram and Hart. There had been meeting after meeting after meeting. His hand ached from the number of contracts that he had signed and the hands that he had shook. It was beginning to wear him down and he still had to get the through the rest of the week. It might help if he could get Spike out of his head but that was impossible at the moment. Angel had to forcefully stop himself from checking the lobby every few seconds to see if Spike was lurking over by Harmony's station. He was amazed at himself. In the last month he had fallen so hard for the one person, vampire, he had always imagined would be the death of him was now a ray of sunshine in his life. A none deadly ray of sunshine of course. To be honest? It scared the hell out of Angel. He didn't think that he had ever felt this deeply for anyone in his whole life. he hadn't felt like this for Buffy, or Cordelia and he had definitely not felt this strongly about Darla – even when she had been lying in that alley giving birth and dying for their son. He doubted that even Connor would be able to sway him away from Spike.

He was truly scared by the depth of feeling that he had for the blonde. What scared him all the more though was his reliance on Spike. He knew that he couldn't afford to drop the guards that he had on his perimeter but he had been claimed. He was allowed to let Spike take care of him – that was the basis of a claim. The claiming vampire took it upon himself to protect his claim from everything. It was more powerful than the Sire/Childe bond in the fact that it was done willingly by both parties. A claimed vampire had to surrender that control to his master or else there would be serious ramifications for both parties involved. These usually took the form of insanity on the part of the Claim as they subconsciously fought the power that the other vampire had on them. That fighting caused an aggressive dominant reaction from the claiming vampire forcing them to put more pressure upon their sub. It made for a vicious cycle that neither was able to break. Angel had heard horror stories about vampires that had ripped themselves apart over this and felt very relieved that he was a willing Claim.

He had never realised how freeing it was to unload the responsibility – even if it was only for a few hours. Everyday he signed pieces of paper that had the potential to get people, even his friends, killed or seriously hurt. He felt as though each little signature chipped a little piece of his soul away. But each night he got to go up to the penthouse and fall into strong arms that caught and held him until morning. His dreams were chased away; his worries were burned up by the light that was Spike and all the love that he felt for him. He was terrified though that the light would inevitably burn him up – it was that intense.

The phone rang. He smiled as a husky British voice drawled down the wire requesting his presence upstairs. He didn't have the time to contemplate when Spike had managed to slip past him because he knew that Spike had left earlier in the day to finish packing up his apartment. He buzzed Harmony and told her that he was going for a break and that he'd be in the penthouse if there was an emergency. He heard the slight accusation in her bubbly tone but paid it no heed, putting the phone down and heading to his elevator. Impatiently he pressed the button several times as if that would hurry it up. The wait and the ride up felt like an eternity but the doors eventually opened on a cool, quiet apartment.

He moved through the main living area noting the subtle hints of Spike that had permeated his space. There was the clinging scent of saffron and camphor that was uniquely Spike. It was pungent now that the smell of tobacco had left him and it made Angel calm whenever he caught a whiff of it. It flowed over his senses like a rolling tide washing away any tension that had invaded his body since the last time it had been smelt. There was the abandoned coffee mug and the open CD case on the coffee table. The vast number of CDs and DVDs hidden in the black lacquer cabinet and the collection of random magazines stacked under the small couch side coffee table. Then there was the not-so hidden Playstation that Spike couldn't leave home without. He moved through the strange amalgamation of their lives, noticing that there really wasn't that much of him visible in the room and passed into the bedroom. Lost pondering whether or not this room reflected some part of his life he didn't notice Spike hidden in the shadows by the door until he barrelled into Angel, pinning him to the bed.

"Hello lover."

Angel quivered at the low purr that he heard in that voice. The voice that coaxed him to sleep every night and had him hard in seconds. He smiled up at Spike and laced his fingers through the ones holding his hands. They were gentle and rough at the same time – just like Spike really. On the outside they appeared calloused, worn by over a hundred years of use, yet when he wanted Spike could use them to bring the gentlest touch to Angel's skin. Touches that had him mewing and begging for everything that Spike was able to give. His voice had gone dry at the sight of Spike. His duster gone, wearing only his jeans and t-shirt, strong muscles clearly visible through the thin material.

"Hey."

That was all he could manage and anything else would have been swept away by the ardent kiss that Spike pressed to his mouth. A warm tongue slipped between his lips and traced gentle patterns all over the inside of Angel's mouth, mapping out its territory. He'd been drinking hot chocolate again and Angel moaned as his own tongue lapped up the remaining traces that coated Spike's tongue. He tried to follow when Spike pulled away but was held firmly but gently in place. Spike smiled at him and moved his arms so that he could hold Angel in place with only one hand, leaving the other free to play with the gorgeous body beneath him; the body that he owned completely.

Spike slipped his hand down the length of Angel's side, a rumbling laugh breaking through as Angel shivered involuntarily at the gentle caress and then moved it up to start undoing the buttons on the front of the silky shirt, gently stroking every inch of pale flesh that was revealed. He took his time, driving Angel insane with impatience at the speed with which he wasn't moving. With his hands held down and Spike straddling his thighs he couldn't arch up into the touch as much as he wanted to but he tried all the same. His frustrated efforts caused Spike to chuckle again and stop all of his movements. Angel growled in frustration. Spike released his hands and rested back on his haunches looking down at Angel.

Angel was already hard – an effect of both the claiming and Spike's teasing touches. Claimed vampire's always had the same reaction to their Claimer, it was as if they were permanent cats in heat whenever they were in the vicinity of their master and their master wanted sex. Their bodies responded instinctively to some subconscious call, some unknown aura that was radiated from the one that owned them. If anything though Angel's reaction was all the more immediate because of the feelings that he held for the smirking, blue eyed devil on top of him. Spike shifted his weight so that his own erection was pressing down on the bulge in Angel's trousers and began to strip the shirt off him. Once it was in a crumpled heap on the floor with his own t-shirt lying on top of it, Spike leant back down and engaged Angel's lips in a passionate kiss that melted the nerve endings in Angel's body. Angel arched up, rubbing his sensitised nipples along the marble white skin above him, hissing at the delightful friction and encouraged all the more when Spike pressed him down into the mattress, rubbing along him as if marking his territory.

Angel felt hands tugging at his trousers and he obligingly lifted his hips, shivering as Spike pushed his silk boxers down with his slacks, delighting in the gentle rubbing of the silk against his aroused cock. Spike kicked his trousers off his legs and there was Angel, lying naked and spread out below him like the most appetising meal he'd ever seen. He began to rock his body into Angel, using his jeans to provide them both with added stimulation. He kissed all over Angel's face, delighting in the taste of his skin. He didn't taste like peaches but more like warm honey. His skin was sweet and Spike could have spent the entire afternoon just licking and suckling on it. He nipped his way along Angel's jaw line, pulling gently at the skin, leaving behind a trail of slight red marks. Angel's face was glowing, a sheen of golden sweat was glittering in the dying afternoon and the pink marks from the nips made him almost look human. he panted little puffs of air into Spike's neck, inhaling the smell that was to him everything that he could ever desire.

Their rocking became frantic as they each clawed their way to climax, the rough denim providing a lot but no where near the level of friction that they both so desperately wanted. Nothing that they truly wanted was provided by this frottage, but it still brought them screaming to relief. Spike felt his cool seed spread over the inside of his jeans, frantic to get to Angel's own, desperate to be buried deep inside Angel where it belonged. Spike collapsed onto Angel's body, burrowing in deep as Angel's arms wrapped themselves around him fiercely.

When they had both calmed and the stars had stopped exploding behind their eyes, Angel kissed into Spike's neck until he turned to face him.

"You demanded to see me because you were horny?"

Spike smirked at him, the promise of more sex explicit in that wicked look.

"Nope."

"Then what?"

An adorable mix of confusion and pout crossed Angel's face causing Spike to groan and lick away the innocence, corrupting it with his impious pink tongue. Angel pulled away wanting his question answered. Blue eyes glared at him in frustration but were met with formidable puppy dog eyes that could have moved stone. Angel knew how to turn Spike to jelly both with his own wicked smirks and his total innocence, but it was his innocence that had the most profound effect. Unable to resist those chocolate orbs that for once weren't hidden beneath depths of worry and remorse, Spike sighed.

"Well… I just finished moving in and wanted to christen the place, so to speak."

Angel laughed. It was pure and honest and heart warming to here. It had the innocence of childhood and wisdom of ages. It lit up his face like no sun could ever manage. The radiance came from within and was coloured with pure joy. Spike was sure that he had never seen anything so beautiful in his life and Angel was convinced that he had never been so happy.

"You live here now?"

"Yup."

"Ok then."

And that was it. Spike was momentarily stunned that Angel had nothing more to say on the matter and a small shard of hurt began to needle at him. He was shocked when he was pulled into a passionate kiss that was all tongue and lips and teeth. When they broke apart Spike gasped for unneeded breath and shuddered as Angel started to attack his pants. He cocked an eyebrow in question and was met with a totally innocuous look that belied the words that followed.

"We still have some christening to do."


	2. Falling Apart

The Scooby gang plus Andrew and Kennedy sat in Angel's office. They were all in shock over Andrew's announcement that Spike was alive and well and living in LA. The fact that he had help Andrew track down Dana told them all that he was still on the side for good, something that couldn't be said for Angel. They had come to a unanimous decision that they would go to LA, offer Spike his rightful position with the International Council of Slayers and Watchers and get him the hell away from Wolfram and Hart. The trip had a dual purpose though. They were hoping that Angel was still good enough to help them track a vampire.

Gabe was proving to be an elusive and dangerous foe. He had killed every slayer that he had met so far. There was nothing about him in any of the history books or the Watcher's journals. He was obviously old. They had no idea how to bring him down and they needed to fast. He was wiping out the young slayers quicker than the ICSW could find them and doing so in such a random pattern that they had no way to plan for his next move. It was a very undesirable situation that was rapidly spiralling out of control. The intel that they had told them that he had left Europe and was currently in or on his way to LA but that was all they knew. He could very well be setting up a base in LA but hunting slayers elsewhere. In short they had no guarantees.

As soon as Buffy had said that she was heading for the city to hunt the vampire herself Andrew had come clean about Spike. There had been a mixed but definitely positive reaction to this news. Within hours Xander, Willow, Dawn and Giles had decided that they were going with her. Where Willow went, Kennedy followed and Andrew just seemed to invite himself along. Now they were all waiting for the former AI gang to appear. They all wanted to see Spike, to have the verification of their own eyes (or eye in Xander's case) that he was actually alive. When Buffy had heard the news she had gone into shock; guilt at leaving him behind, desire to have him back, love and sorrow all swirling around her head in a deafening roar. As she had mounted the plane at Fiumicino, a colony of butterflies had begun to swarm around her stomach and they had turned to bats somewhere over the Atlantic. Then she had spent the night tossing and turning as she was so nervous about meeting him again. Now she was having to wait.

They had been waiting for a full half hour, Harmony telling them that they would have to wait as everyone was either busy or not actually in the building and that they would have to wait until they got back. Harmony hadn't been exactly pleasant to them either. Although she loved being a vampire, she never aged or put on weight – staying eternally fabulous – she still couldn't help but resent them as they had been the ones to drag her into the battle that had gotten her killed. Never mind the fact that Spike's obsession with Buffy had caused them to break up. She was looking forward to his and Angel's relationship being thrown in her face. Her first time in LA, Cordy had told her the drama that had been the Buffy and Angel show, how she had been utterly in love with him and caused him to lose his soul and that even though he was a couple of hours drive away he was still under her thumb. Angel was now totally in love with Spike and Harmony couldn't help but feel slightly jealous at the passion that Spike held for Angel. It was obvious to all who saw – although she had the added advantage of an enhanced sense of smell to fill in the blanks. She knew that their relationship was serious even though it was still so young but she was worried that Buffy would try something.

For their part, having to wait was causing increasingly active butterflies for all of the Scoobies. They were all excited to see Spike and Buffy was totally nervous. She had meant every word that she had said to him in that cave and grieved over his death, now she wasn't sure where they were at but she knew that she wanted him in her life. She was so angry at Angel for not telling her that he was back. She was unable to believe that he was that petty and jealous that he couldn't acknowledge her right to know that Spike had returned. Dawn was really excited about seeing Spike, unable to believe how much she had missed him over the past few months. It had been almost a year since she had last seen him and despite how mad she had been at him in Sunnydale, he was her big brother, her protector, her friend. She had missed him something fierce and really wanted him to come back with them. Although she had grown up a lot over the past year, there was still a small part of her that wanted Buffy and Spike to be together. She had watched her sister mourn the vampire throughout the past few months, missing his company on hunts and sparring with him. She had seemed awfully alone despite the fact that she had been surrounded by other slayers. The rest of the group just wanted to see Spike and thank him. He had earned their respect and gratitude and they were all delighted that he was all right.

The door opened to admit Angel looking a little battered and bruised being supported by Spike, closely behind them was Wesley, looking very different to how they all remembered, a guy and a girl that they didn't recognise and a green demon. Spike and Angel seemed to be in the middle of an argument, a long one if the looks on everyone's faces were anything to go by. Had the members of the ICSW had looked closely they would have noticed something in the way that Spike and Angel were holding each other, but they let their natural belief that they knew these people blinded their senses.

"No, that's not the case at all!"

"Please Peaches, he had you pinned to the wall!"

"I was fine…"

Angel's voice trailed off when he caught sight of the group gathered in his office and he wanted to crawl away and hide rather than face what he knew was coming. He had a horrible feeling that this was the sense of doom that had been tickling him for the past few days. He tensed and Spike felt it in his body and in his mind. He followed Angel's eyes and came face to face with the Scoobies, the people that believed he was dead. Unconsciously he dropped his arms from Angel and Angel staggered at the lack of support, only Gunn at his back stopped him going down completely. The feeling of inevitability raced through his veins like motor oil, clogging up everything in its path until all that was left was the sense of doom and knowledge that he was about to lose.

"Buffy." Spike was pleased to find that he had been right about the fact that he had no way of opening this conversation. The pleasure quickly turned to pain as she punched his nose. Then she threw her arms around him and pulled him into a fierce hug.

"I thought you were dead. I saw you burn."

"Shh pet…its ok… 'm fine." Spike couldn't help burying his face into her hair and holding her tighter. Eventually they broke apart and Spike had to greet all the other Scoobies.

He got lingering hugs from Red and Nibblet, a brief hug and whisper of thanks form Kennedy, a manly hug from Xander (which scared the hell out of him) and another impression of a limpet from Andrew. Even Giles engaged him in a warm handshake and pat on the back. All of them told him how much they had missed him and how grateful they were to see him again. Buffy remained constantly at his side and once all the welcome hugs were done, Dawn took up a flanking position on his other side.

Angel watched with a heavy heart as Buffy wrapped her hand round Spike's and dragged him to the sofa, sitting down next to him practically plastered to his side. Spike hadn't so much as looked at him since they had arrived, not seeming to care that he was looking like he was in a relationship with Buffy and not Angel. Trying not to draw any attention to himself Angel slipped towards the window, listening as they told Spike of everything that they had been doing and Wes made the necessary introductions. Immediately Angel knew that he couldn't trust Kennedy, she was more extreme in her view on the supposed black and white world that they lived in than Buffy was. He knew that she would stake him as soon as look at him just because he was a vampire – never mind the fact that he had a soul. He could smell the mistrust that rolled of each and everyone of them every time that Wolfram and Hart was mentioned and he knew that there would be no way they would come out of this as friends. He hoped to all the deities listening that he was wrong.

He was however surprised at the lack of feeling that he had for the group that had once been his only link to the real world. Spike had eclipsed everything in his heart and the other spaces were filled by his real family; by Wes, Fred, Lorne and Gunn. The remaining space was taken up by the memory of Cordelia, Darla and of course Connor. He felt affection for the people that he saw and he knew it would hurt if anything happened to them, but it wouldn't leave behind the gaping bloody wound that his friends would leave. Then came the question that he was dreading.

"So where's Queen C?"

Angel didn't have to turn around to know that his group were looking amongst themselves and glancing at him for leadership. He merely slumped his shoulders more and continued to watch out of the window. Wes answered in his stead.

"She died a little over a month ago. We tried to get in contact with you but we were told that you wanted nothing to do with us whilst we were having dealings with Wolfram and Hart."

An ominous silence settled over the group. No one knew what to say to that as they couldn't deny the fact that they had refused to speak to the LA group and Angel knew that his group felt that they were being hypocritical to claim that they truly cared about Cordelia, after all they had barely kept in contact with her after she had moved to LA.

"So, I guess that you just don't bother to inform us of anything anymore."

Everyone was aware that the accusation had more to do with Spike than with Cordelia but despite that fact Wes felt the need to defend them.

"We have tried to contact you all on several occasions but each time we met the same barriers. If you won't allow for any messages to get through how are we meant to contact you? Smoke signals?"

He failed to mention the fact that Spike was the one who forbade them telling the Scoobies that he was back, even when they had suggested calling on Willow to help un-ghost him. That was for Spike to admit to. Cowed by Wes' sudden and vehement attack on them Buffy switched tracks.

"You should see our apartment in Rome. It is beautiful. We're quite near the Trevi Fountain and the area is full of shops and fabulous pizza places. We couldn't get rid of Xander for a month the last time that he came to stay!"

Everyone was aware of the implication behind the words that Buffy spoke and to Angel's increasing heartache Spike said nothing about staying in LA or about their relationship. He didn't even mention that he was seeing someone when Buffy mentioned that she had been dating someone but that it hadn't worked out. After about forty-five minutes of torture on Angel's part and general chit chat on behalf of the others Giles adopted a more formal attitude.

"Yes well, as good as it is to see Spike alive and well, for a vampire, we will have to leave the issue of your return and joining the ICSW for the time being. As much as it galls us to say this Angel we have need of your help." Giles pushed a thick manila folder across the coffee table in Angel's general direction. Angel didn't move from his position on the corner of his desk but he did turn away from the window.

"My help? Or Wolfram and Hart's help?" Angel glanced at the folder as if it were about to leap up and bite him. Angel was not happy at the way they assumed that Spike would be going with them, although Angel feared that that would turn out to be the case.

Spike had been overjoyed to see Dawn and Buffy and thrilled to see the others. Buffy had been equally ecstatic to see Spike. He couldn't compete with that and he knew that should Spike wish to leave, Angel couldn't stop him. He felt Fred's hand slip into his own and Wesley take a seat on the desk next to him in a show of moral support. It was killing the pair of them to see Spike curled up with the two Summers girls. They knew that it was destroying Angel but Spike had been so happy to see the people that he had loved in Sunnydale that he hadn't noticed the discomfort of his Claim.

Buffy took control, her status as Prime Slayer apparent in the way she decided to steer the discussion.

"Yours Angel. We are hunting a vampire known as Gabe. He has killed every slayer that he has come into contact with – most of them were unknown or unconnected to the ICSW. From his apparent strength and skill, he is obviously an old vampire. Not Master or Kakistos old but he is no newbie and that is the extent of out knowledge. We can't find anything about him anywhere, which considering how good he is, we are finding that really worrying. We have him tracked to LA. He has been here for a few weeks at most, but he hasn't killed any slayers here yet and we want to sort this out before he does."

Angel glanced at Wes and Gunn, both shook their heads declaring what he suspected to be true.

"We haven't heard of any new vampire in town. If he's as proficient as you say we'd have heard about him by now."

The Scoobies looked amongst each other, briefly considering the fact that they could be wrong but all their evidence had pointed to him coming here.

"No, he's definitely here."

"You're sure?"

"Positive. That file contains everything that we know about him. So far it's only a list of the slayers that he's killed."

Wes frowned at the lack of information. If that was all they had to go on then it was going to be very difficult to track him down in a city the size of LA.

"You have nothing else?"

"No."

"Well, I guess Special Ops have their work cut out for them."

Their was another exchange of private looks and Giles cleared his throat.

"Actually, we would prefer it if Wolfram and Hart had nothing to do with this arrangement. Some slayers may be in danger and we want them to have no contact with this place."

Angel felt his heckles rising at the implications that Giles seemed to be making. He glanced at his friends and saw a similar fury in their expressions. It was Gunn who put their thoughts into words.

"So you want our help but you don't want us involved?"

"That's not what Giles said."

"No, what he said amounted to the fact that you want to have free reign to use the resources that Wolfram and Hart have put at our disposal but you don't want us involved."

Buffy couldn't help the frustrated 'hmph' that escaped her lips as Gunn hit the nail on the head. They had discussed this all the way on the plane. Wolfram and Hart had resources that they didn't – especially in the demon world, but they really didn't want to involve themselves or the slayers they were trying to protect in the mire that was Wolfram and Hart. The Watcher's Council had always been aware of the potential threat that the law firm posed, but with only one Slayer it hardly seemed worth the effort to get involved. Now there were hundreds of girls all over the world with the power of the Slayer and Wolfram and Hart seemed a bigger threat.

"Look, are you going to help us or not?"

"Of course we will. Did you seriously think that we wouldn't?"

Angel couldn't keep the note of hurt out of his voice as he spoke voluntarily for the first time in the whole meeting. He received no reply.

"So we're huntin tonight then luv?" Spike cocked an eyebrow at Buffy. She nodded and gave him a small grin. "Jus' like old times then pet."

"Yeah – we even have a stash of hot chocolate and marshmallows for after." Buffy wanted to talk to Spike after patrol so that they could sort out his coming back to Rome with her. She was confident that he would as he didn't seem to have any lasting attachments here and the way he had been with all of them screamed to her that he needed his friends. "So what are we waiting for? Come on guys, let's patrol LA. How many different cities does that make it now Will?"

Angel listened to their inane banter as they left his office. It had been clear to all of them that they were not invited on this hunt. Angel got the sneaking suspicion in his gut that Spike wouldn't be back tonight.

"Angel? Are you ok?" Fred was worried for her friend. She had seen how he had loved and lost Cordy and that had been tough, this looked like it was going to be more serious though.

"I'm fine Fred. Why wouldn't I be?" Angel's reply sounded forced to his own ears and he could see the patented looks of disbelief on the faces of his friends. "Ok, I'll be fine."

"Perhaps we should discuss this mysterious vampire they are hunting. If he has set up shop in LA that would be bad for us and so I think that we should get a jump on this before anything starts to occur." Wesley took the folder from the table and began to pass sections to each person as Fred put in a call for take out.

It was well after 2am when they decided to call it a night. Angel offered them the guest rooms on his floor which they gladly accepted. He fell into his bed and was amazed at the size of it. It was much too big and cold without Spike. Something was troubling him about the vampire they were tracking. There was something there, staring him in the eye and he couldn't quite see it. It was going to drive him insane – he knew that. Eventually he curled into the arms of sleep, lamenting the lack of the physical arms that he had come to rely upon.

The Master came back to him that night. It was his first time again. He was flogged until there was no skin left on his back. He was then manacled to the bed – the cuffs on his wrists and ankles stretching him wide. He felt the cold, cold hands running over his flesh and then pulling his cheeks roughly apart and then the pain… greater than any he had experienced before. He was stretched and filled more than he thought possible. He felt as though the thrusting would force the cock all the way through him, splitting him in half. He was hammered into the mattress so hard that he could feel the wooden support below. Blood was seeping down from a cut on his head where the Master had smashed it into the ground. He was begging for it to end and yet it wasn't going to, he knew that. He was so scared…

He woke up panting.

The dream had been so real that he could still feel the shocks of pain radiating from his backside. It hurt so much that he wouldn't have been shocked to smell blood. It had been more vivid than ever before. He could still feel the cold hands mapping their way over his skin, the claws raking bloodied tracks in his flesh. He was clammy with a cold sweat – entirely the product of his nightmares. As he gradually woke up more he remembered other details of the dream, details that he had never had before.

_A cold and remarkably hard hand pushed him down. There was so much strength in that one hand, he dreaded to find out how much strength there was in the rest of that cold marble body. He hadn't the energy to scream anymore. His throat was raw with crying and ivory fangs had sapped most of the fight out of him. He felt the tears track down his cheeks and remembered feeling like this when he was only thirteen and Donal had pushed him into a similar mattress. At the horrific thought of what might be to come he began to struggle with what remained of his energy, icy fear making up for the blood loss._

_He was dimly aware of a serpentine hiss in his ear telling him that he belonged to the bloodied monster that towered above him. He could feel the words of ownership being whispered into the deep lash marks on his back and into the deep tear on his throat and his blood soaking them up despite his frantic struggles._

_He screamed as a talon-esque finger breached him violently. The serrated nail tore at the delicate tissue that was beyond the ring of muscle and brought forth a small and steady stream of viscous blood. No matter how much the powerful male anal muscles tried to force the foreign and unwelcome object from his body, that one finger was stronger than all of his muscles put together. He tried to bury his head into the mattress and block out what was happening to him, but nothing seemed to help. His silent screams were absorbed by the goose down but nothing could block out the smell of rich honeyed blood, salty tears and the astringent aroma of the Master's arousal._

_When the huge and almost petrified cock slammed into him he arched off the bed and desperately tried to claw his way away from it. Sharp ungues ripped through the flesh and muscle of his hips and sunk into the bone, holding him in place as a punishing rhythm was set. He cried for someone, anyone to come to him and help but his calls just bounced back to him off the cave walls. _

_As the Master continued to hammer into him, continually ripping and tearing at that tender flesh, he felt a warm glow caress his face. He turned towards the light and saw Spike and Buffy entwined in an ardent embrace. So wrapped up in one another they were ignorant to his cries for help. He screamed and shouted but he could see the words bounce off the barrier of their passion. He reached out a desperate hand to them but it was smacked down by a fist that felt more like a sledgehammer. He watched them dumbly as the Master rode on unable to do anything about his predicament. _

_As it came, he welcomed the call of unconsciousness, willingly diving into its depths in order to escape the physical and heart shattering pain that he was feeling. The last image that he saw was a pair of green eyes lurking in the shadows just out of reach._

Green eyes.

He knew no one with eyes that colour, green as emeralds, green as Irish hills. Yet, they felt… they felt welcome, familiar.

He glanced at his beside clock. The red digital display was flashing 3.34. He hadn't even had an hour's sleep but there was no way that he wanted to go back to sleep. He slipped out of bed and went into the bathroom. He needed to wash the feel of those claws, that mouth, those words from his skin because he knew there was no way to erase them from his mind. The scalding hot water managed to remove some of the physical memory but the ghosts refused to fade no matter how hot the water got. He only stopped his vicious scrubbing when he smelt blood. Glancing at his arms Angel was horrified to see that he had scratched the skin off of them, the soft flannel having been turned into a metal scourer by his fear and revulsion. Revulsion at himself for letting that creature back into his nightmares.

Angel sat and watched the dawn claim LA and trembled as he imagined Spike and Buffy doing the same thing. He tried to drink a mug of blood and a mug of coffee but both tasted like ashes in his mouth. Every time he closed his eyes he had flashes of himself, naked and manacled to a cold stone floor, a holy water dipped cat shredding through his skin and a cruel whisper of 'Mine' echoing down barren corridors. The warm morning sun did nothing to help ease the impressions that the icy hands of nightmare had left on his skin, it only emphasised the echo that still lingered.

Buffy, Spike and the others came in later that day. They were all smiles and sunshine and Angel felt sick. Spike barely said hello. Barely spared a glance to the dark figure that he had woken wrapped around a little over twenty four hours earlier. As he watched the way that they chatted and joked he felt his heart break. He watched whilst they researched, sharing memories that brought laughter bubbling over their lips. He listened as they discussed the previous night's unsuccessful hunt, making it sound like an erotic adventure to his melancholy ears. They didn't notice when he slipped out of the door.

That night he didn't dream.

He wished that he had.

Instead, he was assailed by a vision… Cordelia hadn't lied when she said that they were more painful than they looked. He felt as though molten lava was being poured into his skull whilst his brain was being pulled out at the same time. He lost total control of his body as it convulsed with pain. Red hot pain that blinded him to the world and perversely made him ache for the rime of his dream.

He saw flashes of a girl… young… pretty… long dark hair that framed her tanned heart shaped face. Her dark eyes were filled with tears and a sadness that was as deep as the ocean… She was at a grave… her mother's… there was a demon… burnt umber skin… four long claws… jagged fangs… Oh God! He felt it as the demon dug its claws into her and ripped her intestines out. He saw them fall on the floor in a loose puddle of flesh and blood. He felt her terror. He felt her pain. He felt her die…

It was hell…

He did the one thing that he could do. He pulled his agonised body out of its contorted position on the floor, hurriedly dressed in a pair of combats, a jumper and his boots and left the penthouse, pulling Cordelia's katana sword off of the wall as he went.

Not knowing where he was headed he merely followed the tugging in his mind hoping that it would lead him right. If he turned wrong the pain increased, forcing him to his knees, sobbing for mercy from unthinking powers that couldn't help him anymore.

It was a tear stained forlorn white knight that saved the princess this time, barely able to parry the demon's advances due to the pain in his head.

When he returned from the demon hunt he didn't dare go to sleep. If he did the dreams might come back or he'd see the vision again. He wanted Spike. He needed Spike. He was meant to be able to come up here and fall apart and Spike would put him back together. But Spike wasn't here and he was still falling apart. Instead he sat on his carpeted penthouse floor, head pressed against the window and waited for the dawn to take him. He didn't move until Wesley appeared six hours later and forced his bloodied form into a warm shower.


	3. Realisation

It would be fair to say that Wesley was incandescent with rage. Spike had stayed with the Sunnydale crew for the past five nights. Angel's nightmares were back and something new was troubling him. He knew that Angel wasn't even sleeping anymore. He had picked his bloodied form off of his lounge floor three times and the other two mornings he had had to call Angel to come down to work. If Wes was telling the truth then he was scared for his friend. He was breaking under some invisible weight and he wasn't letting anyone in to relieve him of it. He imagined that there was only one individual that would be able to break Angel from this destruction. Thing was, he wasn't sure that that person would care anymore or that he trusted them to help. He hoped that Angel's meeting didn't end before they arrived as he (and the others) had a few things to say to the vampire. His cell gave a swift trill and he answered it rather more sharply than he had meant to.

"Woah! Chill English it's just me. They are here. We're in conference room two, when you're ready." With that brief message Gunn hung up.

Five minutes later, Wesley and all of his texts were in the conference room with the others. They appeared to be having no luck tracking the vampire and the LA crew had to say the same thing. He was a total mystery.

"So you've had no luck over the past five nights?" Wes couldn't keep the suspicious note out of his voice, no matter how hard he had tried. Demons weren't known for keeping secrets.

"Nope, nothing, nada, niente! It's as quiet as a ghost town out there my little amigos and these books are just as useful."

Xander slammed the book in question shut and pushed it to the centre of the table, glaring at it accusingly. Wes didn't know what they expected – maybe in Sunnydale the demons had announced their presence, but in LA? In LA, they were smart; sometimes they were too smart. Something was still troubling him though about the fact that this vampire was able to hide in such an organised city as LA. Unless…

"Have you checked everywhere?"

"Yup Percy. Went to every demon joint that I know of and then some. There is no trace of this bloody menace anywhere."

Wes looked towards Lorne and Gunn who both confirmed the same thing. His anger momentarily checked by his worry, he sank into his chair and began to really think this thing through. Seeing the impatient looks that he was getting he realised that he would have to think aloud.

"I don't really know what it has been like for you, but here there is a certain protocol that demons seem to follow. New demons to the city, especially ones that have power are immediately ferreted out by… snitches… so to speak. Umm, here there is a great underground information market – no one can hide in LA. If the demon is proficient and powerful then it has enemies. That means there is money to be made by knowing where it is staying."

"So you're saying that you don't think he's here? Wesley, I did a tracking spell myself and it showed that he came here. That he was here when we left Rome."

There was a spark in Willow's eyes that was just daring Wes to challenge her proficiency as a witch. He wasn't intending to.

"Maybe he moved on."

"Perhaps Dawn."

The Scoobies seemed momentarily disheartened by the idea that they had lost the vampire again. Wes didn't think that it was that simple.

"Actually, before everyone interrupted, the point that I was trying to make was that this vampire must be very powerful."

He was met by a host of blank faces. He was growing impatient at their inability to grasp what he was saying. He felt like getting a flip chart and spelling it out for them in really small words. They weren't even thinking about this vampire – just patrolling the city!

"I think that he's here. I also think that he has enough power to ensure that no one will 'rat him out'."

Buffy gave him a disbelieving look at that idea. Sure the vampire was strong but he wasn't powerful – no chance.

"If he's that powerful Wesley, then why haven't we been able to find him in any of the books? Also what proof do you have to suggest that he's still here?"

"Maybe we aren't searching for the right name. It would be like looking for the Master under Nest or Spike without looking up William the Bloody. Gabe may just be a moniker. And my proof comes from the fact that my locator spell failed to turn anything up."

"Maybe you aren't that good at magic."

"No, Buffy. I am good at magic – not as good as Willow but I am definitely proficient enough to cast a simple locator spell. Not only did my spell fail but it was returned."

Willow's head shot up.

"He can use magic."

"I think so."

A spell of silence settled over them all. If Wes assumptions were correct then Gabe was more of a threat than they had realised. He was potentially very dangerous indeed. Gunn leafed through the file in front of him. They needed a new avenue of investigation.

"Do you have any idea of what he looks like? Cos I'm thinking… the vamp's new to the city so, unless he is dossing down in some abandoned building – which is not a good way to stay off radar – he's probably checked into a hotel."

"Charlie Boy – vamps don't use hotels that much, tend to just kill and take over a house."

"Not if you're hiding you don't."

"Charles is right. It's not what he'd be expected to do. I'm sure that Angel could do a real good drawin' of the guy if we have an idea of what he looks like."

Giles and Willow began to flick through their files on this matter whilst Andrew made a large show of producing an A5 spiral notebook and turning every page with an audible snap of his wrist. He was driving the LA gang insane. He refused to acknowledge that they had their own expertise in these areas and in some cases actually knew more than Rupert Giles – for instance Quantum Physics, Demonic Law, Pylea to name but a few. Kennedy was the same, she was in love with the power of the Slayer; little realising power isn't useful if you don't know how to wield it. None of them had bothered to listen to Angel when he had suggested that they search the more uptown areas of LA, convinced that the vampire would be more comfortable in the warehouse and docks districts of LA. They didn't seem to understand that they weren't on their home turf anymore and there were other people with better experience.

"Speaking of, where is Deadboy?"

Fred and Lorne both narrowed their eyes as they noticed that Spike had no real reaction to that question. He hadn't noticed Angel's absence for the past few days so why should he now?

"Busy. He'll be here when he can."

Wes' response was short and clipped, his anger having re-manifested itself at the implication of Angel as an after thought.

"Wes? Was he… ok this mornin'?"

Fred was hesitant to let the others know that there was something really wrong with her friend but she hadn't had a chance to check on him before now and she wouldn't ever forgive herself if she didn't check on it. Wes caught her eye and the look in his deep blue eyes was one of fear. Other than that there was no other indication that what he said wasn't the absolute truth.

"Yes."

The LA gang shared deafening stares; all of them knew that Spike had hurt Angel very deeply, but only Wes was aware of the extent to which Angel had deteriorated. He wasn't sleeping, he wasn't feeding and his eyes… those deep brown eyes were more haunted than ever before. Wes had made it his practise to study Angel in so much detail that he would know if the slightest hair was out of place. Angel didn't have any hairs out of place at the moment; his whole state of mind was out of place. He was withdrawn, distracted, and distraught. He knew that the mornings he had found Angel on the floor of the penthouse he had been waiting for the sun – either to banish whatever was haunting him or to take him. He had been in more fights in the last few nights than he had in the last month. His ribs were broken and Wes had seen numerous bruises that were fortunately covered by clothes most of the time. If people had really been paying attention they would have noticed other small changes about Angel too. Gone were the suits and shirts, in their stead were either plain black pants or combats and loose fitting jumpers. The most variety in his clothing now was grey. Black or grey, that said everything about his mood. Not only that but there was no gel in his hair, it was in its natural state of disarray, he hadn't bothered to even try to tame it. Nor had he bothered to clean his boots of the gore of the previous night. These small, almost unnoticeable things spoke volumes to Wes.

Angel was imploding. Slowly and steadily spiralling towards the sun.

His fury firmly back in place he turned to face the comet that had caused the E.L.E in Angel's life. He wanted to rip strips off of the blonde vampire that was at present doodling on Buffy's 'research'. Whatever it was was obviously keeping them both amused. About to open his mouth he was distracted by a slight movement in the doorway.

Angel.

He hurt was clearly evident on his face and Wes thought that he could see the slight shimmer of unshed tears before Angel's body trembled and his attention turned in the direction of the elevators. Wes watched Angel as he watched the mail clerk collide with a research assistant and produce a cascade of tumbling papers. There was nothing particularly unusual in that type of occurrence but the expression on Angel's face caught his full attention. He wasn't shocked, surprised or even moved by it, despite the fact that the entire floor could hear the research assistant yelling at the mail clerk. The little scene even had the full attention of everyone in conference room two.

"Hey Sweet Cheeks how was the meeting?"

Angel sighed and moved into the room, refusing to look in the direction of Spike, but unable to stop himself.

"Can we get Eve back? Because even she would be preferable to what I sat through in there. Hamilton is really starting to piss me off! What did I miss?"

Angel flopped into the chair at the end of the table. He tried not to notice that Spike and Buffy were sat at the top of the table looking every inch the perfect couple. Blonde heads so close that they were almost touching as they read a text together. His body was screaming at him to move so that he was near his master. His claim needed to be recognised, his demonic side was demanding it with everything that it was but Angel didn't even have the energy to move, let alone demand Spike's attentions. Why would he want them anyway? Oh yeah… he was falling apart at the seams.

"Nothing much. We haven't been able to discover anything more than you it would appear. I thought that the taking over of a huge firm like this was to make it easy for you to get information like this. I guess you sold out for nothing."

Not even the energy to defend himself from such deadly attacks. Did she realise how hard they hit? How deep the cuts that they made were? How scarred he already was by her appearance?

"Now hang on a minute there Buffy. You have no idea why we took this place or what we do here. I would think that you would show a little respect seeing as though we have taken time out from our lives to help you with a vampire that is ripping your organisation apart. But then you never showed me any respect when I was your Watcher so why should you now."

"Buffy was just pointing out what we all feel." Giles wasn't about to let anyone attack his slayer but Angel didn't even have the energy to watch another argument on this issue again. His voice was thick and leaden with sheer exhaustion.

"Guys… Let's not do this ok? You are never going to understand why we have done this. The most we can hope for is that you can trust us. If that is impossible then can we please just part as old friends?"

"Angel you're sentiments are all well and good but some of us are not friends. There is too much bad blood between us to pretend otherwise."

Angel heard what wasn't said in that but decided not to retaliate.

"Fine. Then we should perhaps finish here and now. This meeting is over." He turned to his crew making sure that he didn't look at Spike. "Guys, I am going to go up, I had a bad night and my head is killing me. Call me if you need anything yeah?"

Angel left the room. As he began to wander up to his office he felt the heavy weight of fear settle in his chest. It was a good thing that he didn't need to breathe because the tightening and pressure would have made that impossible. He desperately wanted to sleep. 'To sleep, perchance to dream… For in that sleep of death what dreams may come…' If he never dreamed again he would be happy. If he never saw the cruel mocking bloodied smile of the Master. If he never felt the iron grip of fear and humiliation that settled like a collar around his neck; making him a slave to the rape of his dreams. If he never saw the entwining sunshine of two lovers so beyond him it was unfair to tease him with their Promethean heat. If he never saw those green eyes that watched him from the depths of shadows. If all of that came true, then he would have the redemption that he so desperately craved.

Eyes as green as Irish hills…

He staggered as the blow knocked all of the air out of his system. It was a thunderbolt of realisation that brought with it an enormous amount of nervous energy. How had he been so blind? It was all there laid out before him and he hadn't seen it… He knew what was so familiar about the killings. He knew where he had seen those eyes before… If he had been alive his heart would have been hammering its way out of his chest. Yet, he couldn't be sure he had to check… He ran, full throttle back to the meeting room, panting in anticipation.

Everyone glanced up in surprise at Angel's return, but only four of them realised that he was… afraid?

"Giles, the killings? What order were they in? Which was first?"

Giles looked at his notes and turned to the vampire "Do you need the dates?" A brief shake of the head indicated that Angel just wanted to know where. "The first was in Paris, the second Blois, then…"

Giles was a shopping list of death. The pattern though was obvious to him.

"Angel, I have marked the map in order but I do not understand what is happening. Do you see a pattern here?"

Angel didn't reply to Wesley. He just stared at the map. In the back of his mind he could feel everyone looking at him but he was more involved with the scene that was playing out in his head. He wasn't in LA anymore… he was 240 years in the past… he was home again…

Not bothering to say anything to anyone he flew out of the room and into the LA night, as if the very hounds of hell were at his heels once more.

"What was that about?" Xander looked around the group to see if anyone else understood what was happening. No one seemed to, so at least he didn't feel stupid.

"I believe that was Angel playing the drama queen." Giles was tired of the dark vampire's dramatics. He pinched the bridge of his nose and took a deep breath. Andrew nodded at his mentor's assessment.

Wesley couldn't help the red haze that settled over his vision. He let it flow into every pore of him. His friend, his oldest, truest friend was afraid of something. He knew more about this vampire than he was going to admit. Wes had seen it grow as Angel had heard the order of the killings. This vampire had been a part of Angel's past. A significant part. He turned a furious gaze on the man that he had once admired.

"I think Giles, had you been paying attention you might have realised that Angel has just worked out something about your vampire." He turned to look at the door that was still closing from the impact of Angel bursting out of it. His voice became wistful. "Knowing Angel, he'll have either gone after the creature himself or he is out confirming his theory. Now I think that this meeting is over. Guys? Take the night off, Angel won't mind. See you tomorrow."

He turned and gave the Scoobies a withering look. He didn't bother to say goodbye, he just gathered his books and swept out of the room.


	4. Reunion

Angel ran from the Wolfram and Hart building, glad that he had decided to wear black trousers and a sweater rather than a suit to work that day. He wasn't concentrating on where he was going he just knew that he needed to breathe. He needed to get as far away from everyone and everything and just breathe. He could feel the walls pushing in on him and he felt totally out of control and more alone than he had ever been in his life. He had lost everything that had once given his life meaning and he had no way of getting it back.

Feeling hemmed in by the buildings on either side of him and trapped by the cars that passed him by he decided that he needed to get higher. He sprung up the side of a building, scaling it effortlessly and so quickly that no one on the ground would have seen him. He hopped from window ledge to window ledge and found hand holds in impossible places. Once on the roof he felt the pressure ease but not enough. He began to run again. He picked up speed and leapt from the roof to a window across the narrow alley way. Again he climbed up the wall, using the drainpipe for leverage and vaulted on to the roof. This roof was higher and made him feel freer but he could see a taller building a few buildings away.

He needed to see the stars.

Once Angel had reached his destination, the tightening in his chest seemed to ease. He moved to the ledge and perched on it looking over the city that he had sworn to protect. He saw thousands of tiny lights, all colours of the rainbow, glowing happily in the dark and he hated it. It wasn't worth it. He had given up so much, lost so much for people that didn't know and who most likely didn't care. Even those that did know hardly ever thought on it and people that should know better refused to believe it. For the first time since starting at Wolfram and Hart Angel actually doubted himself. He could see that they all assumed he went there for the wealth; that he sold out. They didn't question the fact that he had given them the resources they had needed to close the Hellmouth. They didn't realise that he had siphoned money from Wolfram and Hart into the Watcher's Council accounts so that they had something to live on. That didn't even occur to him at that point. He had been brought so low by the opinions of others, his nightmares telling him he was a failure and now the visions. Had he thought about it they should have told him that the Powers were still on his side, but he saw it as another attack.

Another way to break him.

He wished that he could be Angelus. He had feared nothing, not even Hell. He had refused to give up there and he hadn't let Angel give up either. Life without a soul was easier – there were no shades of grey, just black and white, good and evil and you didn't really care what side you were on. Angelus could have easily fought for good had he wanted to. It just wasn't as much fun. Angel's soul stopped him from going to the dark side purely because of the people that he cared for. If they weren't there, if the memory of Cordelia, Doyle, Connor and even Darla didn't haunt him, then he would have given up long ago.

And now he was back.

Gabriel.

Angel hadn't thought on that name in over two hundred years, he couldn't afford to.

He had met Gabriel when he was still a fledge, before he was truly Angelus. Sure he had murdered his entire village but that was a reaction to the way he had been treated when he was alive. It was a reaction to his father's beatings and depreciative attitude. It was retaliation for what Donal had done to him. It was a consequence of suddenly having the power that you had never had in life. Once he had gotten away from Galway, he had calmed down. He had enjoyed the killing like any other vampire, he had excelled at it; but the violence and the mindless destruction came after his time with Gabriel.

After they had gotten him back.

He was seven years old and Darla had been summoned to Vienna to see the Master. He decided that he wanted to go to Paris. He loved the art of the place. He wanted to spend his time wandering through the vibrant Paris streets and soaking in the beauty of the place. Sure it was as squalid as any city at the time, but he had still found beauty there and wanted to again. So he had parted company with Darla and gone to Paris promising to meet her in Rome in two months.

For the first week he had merely wandered around the city. It was so big to him. He was as sure and cocky as he had been in life but he was in awe of the huge city, the rumblings of the coming revolution exciting him. He hunted and fed but mostly he revelled in the freedom that he had. He didn't want to go back to the Order or to Darla; he found it almost as oppressive as he had found his human life. He just needed to find a way out.

What he didn't know was that he had caught the attention of an older vampire.

Gabriel was 264 when he met Angelus and had yet to truly sire a childe. He hadn't found anyone worthy to keep. He was a member of the Order of Dagon, supposedly the direct descendants of the very first Vampire. They were the elite of all vampire society, and Gabriel was the youngest of their Order but he was still immensely powerful. They all were. He had spotted the young carefree vampire the night that he had arrived in Paris and had been disappointed to learn that he was a Childe. Had he been a mere minion he'd have taken him there and then, but there was politics in him being a Childe. He'd followed him every night since then, content to watch the boy revel in his passion for life. He hadn't intended to reveal himself so soon but when his boy had been set upon by a twelve strong group of minions he'd lost it. Each one of them had died quickly and he had scooped up the injured vampire and taken him to his loft.

Angelus hadn't left his side for a year after that. Gabriel had taught him everything. He had taken Angelus to every city that he had wanted to visit. Shown him every piece of art that he wished to see. Taught him how to fight, how to feed, how to speak six human languages and three demonic ones and more importantly… he showed him love. Affection had never been part of his life but Gabriel worshipped him. Promised him that he would take him away from the Order that he had told him he hated so often. He had been truly happy with Gabriel and Gabriel had been besotted with his new lover. He hadn't let him out of his sight.

And then he had gone, leaving Liam at the mercy of Darla and the Master and utterly heartbroken...

Now he was back and somewhere in the city.

Worst of all, they were planning to kill him. Even after 240 years the very idea of Gabriel being staked chilled his demon to the core. Angelus had been driven insane by the loss of Gabriel as sure as he had been by the loss of his soul. Angel dreaded to think what would happen now though. He knew that he couldn't kill Gabriel. He had killed Darla and Penn and set Dru alight, but he wouldn't be able to kill Gabriel. He had loved Gabriel with everything that had been left of Liam and now he had Liam's soul.

It's true that when the demon takes your body your soul leaves. It is also true that at the same time there is something left of that human you had been. There has to be – otherwise you wouldn't know anything about the life the body had led before. It's what kept vampires so grounded, what made them fascinated by humans; they needed to know where the difference between them lay. This was even more so for Childer as their Sire's had seen something that they had wanted in the human they had taken. The demon was refined within Master vampires, not the snarling animal that most turned vampires were. Losing Gabriel had meant losing that part. He had loved Gabriel, really and truly. Angelus never let himself love after that. He was too broken up. Now Angel was broken even more so, and he feared that this would destroy him.

So lost in his thoughts Angel didn't hear the dull thud of another body alighting on the roof. He didn't even smell the other vampire. He didn't notice anything until they spoke.

"Hello Angel."

Gabriel was still beautiful. Silky black hair and sharp green eyes and milky coffee skin. He was as elegant and graceful as a cat. He didn't walk as much as he seemed to glide towards Angel. He was as alluring and intoxicating as he had been when Angel had first seen him… _When he had woken up on a feather bed and stared into eyes as green as Irish hills_… He had lost himself in those hypnotic eyes and was doing so again. Gabriel stopped just before their bodies were touching but had they had need to breathe they would have been sharing each others air.

"You're still beautiful Petit."

His slight French accent stroked over Angel's face, followed by the soft pad of his thumb and Angel's eyelids fluttered closed without his permission. That voice always had weakened him.

"You killed the Slayers."

He needed to focus and not be taken back to that place. He couldn't do it again. He couldn't afford to lose himself in Gabriel, there was too much to risk.

"I did Mon Petit. I was trying to find you."

"Why?"

"Because Angel, you let another claim you. I saw you first, all those years ago; I would have had you then. But…"

"You left me."

He couldn't stop it. All the hurt that he felt when he had woken up to find Gabriel gone flooded back. No note, no message. He had waited for weeks, believing that Gabriel would return for him and he would take him from the Order that he hated. He had been so young and foolish then. Not even ten years old and yet it still hurt 240 years later.

"Non Mon Cher, I never left you. Not willingly. Your Sire and her's found us. He had told my Sire that I had stolen you from them and that I was holding you against your will. I was forced to leave you. I never wanted to Petit; I wouldn't even tell them where you were. I knew that you hated them and wanted you to have the time to escape them."

"You should have come back. I would have told your Sire."

"I know that Mon Ange but he wouldn't hear me. Then they found you again, and I couldn't follow."

Gabriel moved closer to him as if to press upon Angel the truth behind his words but Angel turned away. That feeling was back, that fluttering feeling in the pit of his stomach and he was a seven year old fledge in awe and in love with the dark and exotic vampire. Gabriel had almost broken through Angel's barriers but Angel couldn't let that happen. He couldn't let people die, he couldn't let Gabriel kill.

"So now what? Why have you come here now? To ruin my life again?"

"You make it sound as if I am ruining your happiness Petit, but I am not. I see it on your face. You've been claimed but not kept. He hasn't fulfilled his promises has he? He hurts you and he doesn't even know. I see it all over your face. Your heart cries out Cher, and I am the only one to hear it."

Seeing the truth of his words hit Angel like the force of a Mack truck he moved forward and pulled Angel into his arms. To his great age, Angel still felt like the fearful fledge that he had met all those years ago. He was well aware that Angel was more dangerous now, but Gabriel didn't fear him. He, what he had done had created the rage that created Angelus. But he had known Angel; he had had Angel, Liam, for a whole year. He had loved him for a whole year and been loved by him. That wasn't something that would ever change. He had taught the vampire that he held everything that Angelus had ever truly learned. Darla may have taught him cruelty but Gabriel had taught him about passion, pain, love and life. He had awoken the sensuality that had been destroyed in Liam by his father and Donal.

For a few moments they stood on the roof entwined as only lovers can be. Angel buried his head into the intimate hollow between Gabriel's chin and shoulder and inhaled the scent that had been home to him so long ago. He felt fingers caress his hair and lower back and fought the urge to purr and become a boneless mass of vampire. He felt safe; something that he had needed to feel for the past week and no one had been willing to give him. He felt as though nothing could touch him here, not even the Powers. Not his guilt or his past. He was truly safe.

"I can't do this."

He pulled himself away from Gabriel but a pair of strong arms trapped him and held him still. Gabriel stared into his eyes for what felt like eternity.

"You don't have to do anything Mon Ange. Let me look after you."

His voice was a seductive whisper that reeled Angel in. He found himself leaning into Gabriel's touch and a feather-light kiss brushed across his lips. It would have been so easy to take what was being offered but he couldn't. He pulled himself free and backed away, being close to Gabriel was too tempting.

"I can't. Please just go. They're hunting you and they'll kill you if they find you. Go, I won't say anything, just please leave."

Angel's voice was barely a whisper but the pain and despair in that voice was as loud as thunder. Gabriel felt his heart break and he wanted to rip into everything that had caused his boy pain. After all of these years, Angel was still his, always would be. Slowly, as if trying to calm a spooked animal, he moved towards Angel. He ran his fingers lightly over his face and spoke softly.

"I'm not going anywhere Petit. I can't leave you like this, so hurt, so scared. I promise though, they won't find me and I won't kill. I won't make it hard for you but I won't leave. I did that once before."

He brushed another kiss over Angel's lips and then backed away.

"If you need anything, Mon Cher, anything at all…"

He melted into the darkness leaving Angel alone on the roof, trembling. He told himself that it was just the cold but he knew that he was just lying – and not even doing a good ob at it.


	5. Confessional

Angel returned to Wolfram and Hart and was relieved to find that they had all gone. He thought that he remembered something about them going to a club or bar, but he couldn't be sure. He wanted to talk to someone but he wasn't sure how to tell them what he knew. How do you tell them that the figure they are hunting is an old lover that wants you back? How do you admit that you are feeling so lost that you want to go back?

Angel couldn't help but feel a deep hatred for Spike. Over the past month he had lowered all of the defences that he had put in place over a hundred years and let Spike in. The walls that let him deal with everything had been smashed and broken and were lying in pieces around his feet. He was broken and was still breaking. This place, the dreams, the visions, Spike and Buffy together, Gabriel… it was all too much. It was destroying him and all he wanted was for a strong pair of arms to wrap around him and tell him that he was safe. Thing was that he wasn't sure whose arms he wanted. He hadn't noticed that he had sunk to the floor was had wrapped his arms around his knees, rocking himself as he cried, gazing blindly out on to the LA night.

Wesley did though. He had brought a file for Angel to review and had planned to leave it on Angel's desk before he left for the evening. That plan left him as soon as he saw the state of his friend. Wes knew that he would kill for his friends but he had never wanted to as much as he did then. Angel, the man that he saw as their Atlas, was broken; the world had collapsed on him. He moved towards the crumpled figure.

"Angel."

There was no response. No reaction at all.

"Angel?" He reached his hand out and was shocked when the vampire just melted into him, seeking out all the comfort that a human body could give. Wes, not knowing what else to do, merely held on to him and let Angel cry.

After about half an hour, Angel's sobs subsided but he made no effort to move from Wes' arms. He felt safe again.

"We need to talk Angel; you need to tell me what's going on."

Wes didn't loosen his arms. He kept his voice soothing and a hand ran through Angel's hair. He didn't care how this looked, his friend needed comfort and he was willing to give it. He had never noticed until this point that Angel received very little physical comfort. He didn't get the casual touches that they all gave one another. He wasn't included in Gunn's complex handshakes or Fred's spontaneous hugs. When was the last time that any of them had touched him willingly and not out of necessity? When had they made Angel into a figure that was totally sexless and made of stone and not flesh and blood? He felt his guilt roll around in his gut and anxiously awaited Angel's response.

"Not here." Angel disentangled himself from Wesley and pulled himself to his feet. "Give me ten minutes."

He disappeared up to the penthouse. True to his word, he returned in ten minutes, showered, and changed into a pair of baggy jeans and a black wool jumper. These were comfort clothes. He held a book in his hands. He motioned for Wesley to follow him down to the motor pool.

Wes was shocked when they pulled up next to the Hyperion, more so when he felt the many protective wards that had been cast over the place. He raised an enquiring eyebrow. Angel merely shrugged and responded, "Thought we might need a bolt hole one day. Nothing can get in here without our invitation. Wolfram and Hart have nothing to do with it so we're safe here."

Angel began to move through the quiet lobby, turning on a few lights. He went into what had once been Wes' office and sought out an old bottle of whisky he had hidden there. There were no glasses.

He took a swift swig and handed the bottle to Wesley. "Guess you wouldn't believe me if I told you that I was all better now." Wes didn't bother to shake his head – he just raised an eyebrow. Angel took another gulp of the amber fluid. "Thought not."

"What's happened Angel? Is this about Spike?" Wesley was going to kill the peroxide cockroach if the answer was yes.

"Yes, no, all of the above. Oh god Wes, I don't know what to do anymore."

Tears appeared again but Angel refused to let them fall. He was tired of crying, tired of feeling weak, he had to build up those walls again. The only way to do that was to talk to someone. Wes was the only one he trusted.

"Angel, just tell me what is wrong and then we'll know how to fix it."

"Don't think that we can Wes, think that it's too late this time. Just listen and don't interrupt ok?" He waited for Wes to nod and took another deep drink. This was uncomfortably like the night he had confessed all to Spike.

"When I told you all about my dreams, I left out something. I left out Spike, well William. One night he found me after the Master had had me and he decided that he wanted me too. I don't know why, but I just let him. He couldn't have forced me to do anything, he wasn't strong enough. I guess that I just wanted to feel something besides the pain. I wanted someone to make it all about me. William had always been so gentle. He treated Dru like she was a China doll and I think that I hoped that he could do the same for me. Give me the pleasure that was missing in my life. But he couldn't. He was too consumed by the blood lust.

He did though a hundred years later. It was how our relationship began. He loved me. I told him what had happened and he loved me. He made it all about me. He promised to look after me and I believed him. I trusted him to claim me and look after me. We agreed at work that it would be as it always was, but once we were in the penthouse it was us and he was in charge. I loved it. I could let go, I was so tired of being the strong one. Of making decisions that could get my friends killed. Of dealing with the scum that we called clients. Of losing the people I love. He let me break and then helped me to build up again.

It was so good, Wes. I had never felt so loved or safe ever. I knew that I could do this thing with Wolfram and Hart, as long as I had him. But they came here for him. And he has gone to them so willingly that he couldn't have ever loved me. He told me that we were never going to be a secret that he couldn't be a secret again. But I am his secret now, and he's never going to tell. He went back to her and he just forgot about me. And it hurts so much. I haven't felt this level of betrayal before, it's like I was nothing to him.

The night they arrived he didn't come home. He hasn't been home since they arrived and my nightmares are back. He had kept them away and now there back. I haven't slept since then, funny really, there was a time that Spike was driving me insane and now I'm been driven insane without him."

Angel gave a harsh, forced bark of laughter and stared at the bottle in his hand. Wes wanted to say something or stake Spike but he didn't want Angel to clam up. Angel hardly ever shared his feelings and the fact that he was sharing so much meant that he was in a lot of pain. Wes couldn't help the small bubble of pride that he felt when he realised that Angel trusted him enough to open up. He, unlike Spike, had no intention of betraying that trust. His heart broke for his friend but he kept quiet and waited for Angel to continue on his own.

"It wouldn't have been so bad you know, I could have handled the dreams before but now… it's like Spike has stripped me of the armour that I am so used to wearing and I have nothing to protect me from the world anymore. I got so used to him helping me put it all back together that I can't do it on my own. And you know the saying that bad things come in threes? Well it's true.

The other night, when you found me on the penthouse floor covered in blood? Well I lied, I hadn't run into a demon, I had gone hunting for it."

He raised sad chocolate eyes to Wesley's face and Wes felt the pieces of his heart shatter at the despair he saw in them. He was beginning to think that he might not be able to put Angel back together after all. Angel's voice was now little more than a husky whisper, as if he feared saying it out loud.

"I'm having visions Wes. Cordy gave me the visions. Oh god it hurts. She never said how much it hurt. The girl I had to save, I felt what would happen to her if I didn't manage to save her. Being gutted by a letzug is nothing compared to the migraine that comes with a vision. She was so scared and in so much pain and my head felt like it was going to explode."

"Good Lord! Angel you should have told us that earlier! Are you ok? Of course not… I'm sorry; I just wasn't expecting this…"

Wesley was in a spin. Angel had just turned his world upside down. In a way he was pleased that Angel was having visions as it meant that the Power's hadn't abandoned them. But at the same time he knew that Angel didn't need this, not now. He remembered what Cordelia had said about her out of body experience; that they had driven Angel mad and he feared that this would be the very real outcome, especially with the way that Angel's life was going at the moment.

"They scare me Wes. I don't know what to do. How did she cope with them?"

"I think she coped with them because she was Cordelia. She wouldn't let anything beat her, especially not when someone she loved was at stake. Remember Angel, visions can only be passed on through love. Cordelia loved you very much, and this is the proof."

He hoped that these words would comfort Angel but they only caused a slew of tears to be unleashed. He guessed that Angel had never needed proof of Cordelia's love. He would have rather had her any day than proof of her love. Wes watched as his friend grieved for Cordy and wiped his own tears away. She had been gone over a month, in a coma for nine months and yet she still hadn't left them. Gradually Angel pulled himself back together and smiled at Wes, acknowledging that they both missed the girl that they had been so proud of.

"I think that there is something wrong with my visions. You know that Cordy had reruns – her hangovers? Well I have something like that, but it's different. Its flashes of things that will happen, like déjà vu but it is more specific. I know what people will say or do or if a glass will be knocked over… they're like mini-visions without the pain. Only the urgent ones have pain."

He waited for Wes to respond, watching as the Watcher mulled things over. His intelligent blue eyes still shone with tears but they were now focused on a task. Angel already felt better. He had missed being able to talk to Wes like this, it had been too long and there had been too much bad blood between them. Now not even that was stopping him talking to the Englishman. Sometimes he felt as though Wes was his only friend. He was always there to steer Angel right. He was what kept Angel on the path.

"Maybe, your visions are the real thing. You see the future really, like a true Seer. Perhaps that's what drove the other you mad? You weren't able to ignore the visions. I'll check my books and find a way to contact the Powers, a conduit of some kind. Other than that, I can't think of any reason for you to fear your visions. Unless something malevolent comes to light I think that we should follow them as we did with Cordelia. I will look into them though I promise."

Angel gave Wes a relieved smile and took another swig of his whisky. He had to tell him about Gabriel and trust him to advise him correctly. Wes knew what it was to think with his heart and think with his head. Angel just didn't know how to begin. For a while he just sat and watched the early morning sunlight creep into the garden and Wes let him knowing that there was more to be said.

"I think that I am going to betray you all."

That wasn't what Wes had wanted or expected to hear. He frowned and focused on Angel's face. He was pale and drawn and he looked frightened. Wes hadn't ever seen the expression on Angel's face before, but he guessed that was what it was.

"All the Slayers that have died… it was my fault. Gabe was looking for me. I should have figured it out when I heard the name. I knew that something felt familiar about the entire thing but I couldn't tell what. It wasn't until Giles confirmed the locations of the killings that it all clicked. Gabe is my Gabriel."

"He's your Childe?"

They had coped with Angel's psychotic family before, they would manage again. He wasn't too worried. Angel knowing the vampire meant that they now had an advantage.

"No. Wes, he was my lover."

He saw the blue eyes open in shock and the mask of neutrality settle on Wes' face but he knew that there was a mix of fear, curiosity and worry under that mask. He couldn't look Wes in the eye any more and moved away from the sofa they were on. He went out into the garden to sit under the covering. Wes followed him a little while later, a new bottle of Bushmill's in one hand, the book in the other. Angel relieved Wes of the book and flipped through the pages until he found what he was looking for. He turned the book to Wes.

On the page was a sketch of an attractive man. He seemed to have an almost hypnotic quality. The sketch had obviously been drawn a long time ago and with a lot of affection. Angel turned the book back and traced his fingers over the ink lines.

"I had only been a vampire for seven years when I met him. I wasn't yet a real monster, I had slaughtered my village, but I wasn't the depraved creature that I became. I was in Paris, away from Darla for the first time and having the time of my life. I was free. I hated the Order, it was just more rules, but it was worse than that. They owned me and I had promised myself that no one was ever going to own me again. So I decided that I would not return to Darla. I decided that I would remain in Paris and then move to where I wanted. That I'd see the world, see and learn about everything that I could – I'd never had the chance to before. My father thought that my interest in art and history, limited as they were, were unbecoming his son. But now I was free of him and of the Order.

I loved Paris, it was alive. I spent my first week wandering around and just basking in my new freedom. Then one night I was attacked by a group of minions. I was stronger than they were but there were too many for me to handle. One of them knocked me out and when I came to I was with Gabriel. He'd been following me all that time and took the vampires out for daring to touch what he saw as his. I was scared of him at first, I could feel his power, but he was so kind to me Wes. For the first time someone was actually kind to me. He was from Paris and he showed me around, told me things that I wouldn't have known before. He took me to the Notre Dame, the Sacre Coeur, and the palace at Versailles – all the time telling me their history.

When my month was up I told him that I didn't want to go back to Darla and he offered to take me to the Loire, show me the crumbling châteaux and where Da Vinci had worked and I was so eager to be away from the Order of Aurelius that I didn't think twice. I would have followed him to the ends of the earth."

Angel paused and glanced at Wes. The morning sun was still creeping into the garden but even though it hadn't yet got anywhere near the covered area, Wes still seemed to glow in the morning light. He had a confused look in his eyes, one that Angel could easily read and answer.

"Don't believe everything that you were taught as a Watcher Wes, remember that the world is never black and white. Do you honestly think that there is nothing left of the human host once the vampire moves in?"

"Well, of course there are lingering memories but the soul, the part that is human has gone Angel. A fact that you are only too aware of."

"In a way you're right and in a way you're very wrong. A little part of the soul does remain Wes, it's what allows vampires to remember being human, to form the familial attachments that they do. Darla once told me that the same love would infect my heart even though it no longer beat and she was right. When I met Gabriel there was still a small part of Liam left in me. That part loved Gabriel intensely. I was truly in love for the first time in my life. I was with him a year and he took me everywhere that I wanted to go."

"The places the Slayers have died in." Wes was beginning to get the frightening feeling that the deaths of Slayers wasn't the end or the beginning of what was going on here. Angel was the reason and Gabriel was obviously here for Angel.

"Yeah. The first night that I sat down with the file I thought that there was something familiar but I couldn't work out what. I don't know what triggered it at the meeting but I realised that they were the places that we had visited and the order that we went there. He was sending me a message."

"About what Angel? Surely he knows about your soul."

"He knows everything about me Wes. He made me. Angelus was created out of the grief of losing Gabriel. I woke up one evening and he was gone. I waited a month and he didn't come back. I had practically starved myself refusing to leave the house in case he came back so when Luke, the Master's other Childe found me I was too weak to fight back. I never got another chance to leave the Order after that until my soul.

That was main reason that the Master took me the first time. He could smell Gabriel all over me and said that I needed to know who I belonged to. I became a monster because I couldn't control anything else in my life. Liam died when I lost Gabriel and I needed the monster to survive what was to come."

Angel couldn't carry on. It hurt to think of that time in his life. At the time it had seemed bad but he had had no soul. Now it felt black and sticky. It felt like it was clawing and oozing all over him. Silent tears tracked down his face but somehow he felt peaceful. Unloading this huge part of his past on to Wes, who had merely listened and not judged (yet) made him feel lighter. He felt a small part of his soul heal. His darkest days didn't seem that dark now that he was sharing them with another person in the warm morning light.

Wes didn't know what to say. He knew that Angelus had been a monster without compare but he would never have guessed that heartache and fear had been the causes. Everyday he learnt that he knew very little of the creatures that he was supposed to be an expert of. He really shouldn't have been surprised that vampires could love; they were the closest of all demons to humans. At times it was almost like they were the next stage in human evolution or the missing link between humans and animals. The demon thing barely came into it. He guessed, and rightly so, that demon emotions were more heightened than a humans, that love was obsessive and all encompassing and hardly recognisable as human love. The thought of that worried him though. Obsessions didn't go away. They festered. Vampires were eternal so wasn't it feasible that their loves did. He remembered James, the invincible vampire that had his heart cut out over Elizabeth and the way that Darla had been about Angel. What would Gabriel be like now that he had been separated from his love for two and a half centuries?

"Angel? Why… What does Gabriel want?"

"He wants me Wes."

He got the answer that he dreaded hearing. The thing that stopped his heart though was the wistful tone that he heard in Angel's voice. The sense of longing that made him fear that Gabriel wouldn't have to work to hard to achieve his aim. Angel had been broken under the pressure of circumstance and duty and Gabriel was a way out. Just as he had been so long ago.

"He wants me just like he wanted me all those years ago. There are things that I have to tell you about Gabriel, things that are more serious than him being old and my ex."

Angel paused. He felt as though he was betraying Gabriel but he had to tell Wes. He couldn't afford to lose his friends over this and the only way was to tell Wes the truth. No matter what he decided then, at least he wouldn't have lied.

"We weren't just lovers. He was going to make me his Childe. After about eight months he told me what he had decided he wanted to do the first time that he saw me. So we began to make our way back from Moscow. We were heading to Romania, the seat of his Order and his Sire's home. As I was the Childe of another Order he needed to involve his elders. There's a lot of politics between vampire Orders – they even have their own Council."

Wes couldn't help the disbelieving snort that escaped him. He just couldn't imagine vampires sitting around and discussing current events. Angel smiled the first real smile that Wes had seen from him in a long while.

"Hadn't you ever wondered why there were never any real vampire wars? Why humans are totally unaware of us despite the numbers? The Council keep the peace and all have to answer to it. Gabriel's Sire was a member of the Council which would have made everything easier but the Master got to him first and told him that Gabriel had taken me from my Sire. No one asked me. As far as the Council were concerned Gabriel was at fault and I had no say. Had we gotten to Gabriel's order earlier I wouldn't have had to go back to the Master and Darla."

Wes was fascinated. He had never known that there were so many levels to vampire society. He suddenly saw them as both very human and perhaps more so. They didn't have wars and yet were demons with no souls. The obvious contradiction made very little sense to Wes. Something though really didn't make sense. He may know little of this real vampire society but he knew that the Order of Aurelius was powerful. Even now with the Master dead.

"Angel? The Order of Aurelius is one of the most powerful demonic groups in existence. How could Gabriel's Sire stop them taking you back? From what I know, if the Master wanted something he inevitably got it. Darla wanted you back and you have said before that you were her favourite and she was the Master's. How could they have stood in the way of that?"

"They were the Order of Dagon."

Wes dropped the bottle of whisky in surprise. He had never expected Angel to come out with that. Now he knew why Angel was so nervous about talking to them. About them trying to face Gabriel. If the stories that he had heard about the Order of Dagon were true then the Slayers were in a lot of danger and all that stood in the way of that was a very distressed Angel. The one individual that they wanted nothing to do with.

"Angel, the Order of Dagon is a myth. It has to be. The very first vampires? Please tell me that this is a joke!"

"No joke. Sorry."

"But… Good Lord! Angel do you realise how serious this is? From what I have heard you are the only thing standing in the way of the destruction of all the Slayers because I doubt that he is just going to walk away from this! He still wants you as his Childe doesn't he? He knows Spike has claimed you and…" The truth hit Wes like a speeding freight train. "He's here to take back his property! He knew that the best way to get your attention would be to attack the Slayer line but he couldn't attack Buffy or the Scoobies because that would hurt you and defeat his purpose! We've walked right into his trap."

Angel didn't need to answer. His deep brown eyes told Wes that he was exactly right, that Gabriel's good will was the only thing stopping him raining down hell on them all. His love for Angel was what was keeping them safe, although he doubted that Spike would be safe if Gabriel knew how hurt Angel was. There was only one thing that Wes needed to know before he decided what to do. It was quite clear to him that not only was Angel incapable of making this decision himself but that he didn't want to. He wanted Wes to make it for him. He couldn't kill Gabriel, just as he couldn't kill Cordelia.

"Have you spoken to him?"

Angel nodded. Wes felt like the reprimanding father but he needed all the information that he could get.

"He wants you back?"

Another nod. Angel wouldn't meet his eyes anymore. The brave soul that had poured his heart out to Wes over the past few hours had vanished and left a shy and very sad boy in his place.

"Does his Order agree with his wishes?"

A shrug. At least it was the truth.

"Do you want to go with him Angel?"

The absence of an answer, verbal or physical, told Wes more than any real response would have. Angel wanted to go. Angel was so hurt by life that he actually wanted to leave it all behind and go with Gabriel. He wanted the life that he could have had and Wes couldn't find it within himself to begrudge him that. Angel needed someone to love him. Wes had hoped that Spike was the one for that job, but despite his promises he wasn't there for Angel now that he was needed. Angel was obviously hurting and Angel said that Spike had claimed him, yet Spike was unaware of all of this. He was caught up in his own life. Gabriel seemed to want to offer Angel more than that. Angel deserved more than that.

"Ok. Angel, I don't know what to do right now. I suggest that we both get some sleep; we'll stay here, and look at it all later. If we decide to we'll tell the others but I won't say anything without your permission. I promise."

Angel nodded mutely and gathered his sketchbook. Wes watched as he headed back inside. His shoulders were hunched and there were tear tracks on his face. His steps were slow and heavy and he never lifted his gaze from the picture on the paper. Wes' heart broke. If they had to force Angel to kill Gabriel, they would lose him. Watching Angel trudge up to bed he made his decision. He waited until Angel was asleep and then took a tranquiliser dart from the secret drawer in his/Angel's desk. He was glad that he hadn't cleared out his entire secret stash. He didn't need to creep into Angel's room; Angel was so deep in sleep that only the rumblings of an apocalypse would have woken him.


	6. Revelations

Wes drove back to the office in a state of growing fury. Angel had let Spike into his life only to let him destroy it. He remembered all the times that he and Cordelia had complained at the fact that Angel felt he always felt that he had to act alone. Now he realised that it was the only way that Angel could do what he had to. The demon inside him may not be afraid of much, but the soul was that of a 27 year old Irish man that had been bullied and broken by his father. Wes knew the damage that a disparaging father could do. Since then Angel had only let four people into his heart that fully that they knew his past – Spike, Cordelia, Gabriel and himself. One of those had done that which Angel had feared forever. They had broken him with it. Not by using the knowledge against him, but by merely letting him go. Angel loved with everything that he had and he didn't, he couldn't just let go. He gave himself entirely to that other person and trusted them. Spike had thrown away something more precious than most people ever got to have.

The place was busy for a Sunday afternoon, paralegals shuffled around and various demons moved between floors, obviously performing some kind of job. Wes was relieved to find that none of his friends were in. It meant that he had time to sit and think through what he wanted to do and what the best solution to this heart-breaking mess was. He knew that either way they would lose a part of Angel, be it his physical presence or his friendship. He moved to his office to grab the templates that he needed. He had already decided that he wasn't going to be working in his office but in Angel's. He needed to be away from everyone and in a place that he could access everything that he needed and defend Angel's absence. He paused at Harmony's desk and left a note telling her that Angel wouldn't be in and that he was working in Angel's office and would deal with any urgent business.

Feeling unworthy of sitting at Angel's desk he went to sit at the large conference table and spread out all of the work that he had with him. On one side he had the templates that he was going to use to find out everything that he could about this vampire, on the other he had his own and Wolfram and Hart's files on Angel alongside Angel's sketchbook. It felt wrong to be dissecting Angel's life like this but he knew that it was the only way that he could come up with any kind of decision. He opened the template first.

"Vampire Orders, the Order of Dagon."

The page sprung to life and within seconds was covered in a small, neat print that told the story of the Order of Dagon. This was more information than he had every received on the Order at the Watcher's Council. The history of the Order was fascinating and Wes became totally absorbed in his reading.

_The most elusive and prestigious of all vampiric Orders is that of the Order of Dagon. Known to be the oldest surviving vampire line, the Order can be traced back to at least 196BC and the Rosetta Stone, upon which there is a brief and often overlooked or misread set of symbols that refer to the 'night people'. Cave art from localities surrounding Egypt, Palestine and Lebanon depict scenes of blood sacrifice and one symbol continually occurs – an inverted three pointed star. Archaeologists have attributed this symbol to gods or spirits but students of the occult know it to symbolise the Vampire Order we now know as Dagon._

_Where the origins of their name come from is unknown but as their status as the Keepers of the Blessed One is well documented it is believed that Dagon could very well be the name of the First Vampire and not Lilith or the Sleeper as has been suggested. They are his lieutenants, his guardians against the world that would destroy him should he be found. Others have speculated that their name originates from their migration from the Middle East to Romania or the area once known as Dacia sometime before Roman occupation in 89AD, settling south of the Carthapian Mountains. The people of this area became known as the Dagae by the Romans and it isn't entirely unfeesible that they derived their name from that. _

_Whatever the origin of their name, the only truths that are known about this Order are the accounts from the few Watchers that survived their attacks. Demonic society has never documented their existance for fear of retribution and so we are reduced to heresay and legend when it comes to dealing with these creatures. One ancient and popular legend tells of a time when the First Vampire walked the Earth, followed by a plague which consumed man kind, leaving rivers of blood for the demon to gourge himself upon. In that time he created himself a vanguard of creatures like unto himself and endowed them with traces of his power. His vanguard went forth and created more until the vampire race spread over the face of the world, blyting humanity with its evil. When the First Vampire grew weary of the world he dropped into a deep slumber and his vanguard kept watch over the millenia ensuring that none disturbed his slumber._

_There is a second part to the Legend that tells of the First Vampire drifting into the Dark Realms as he slept and should he awaken he will bring with him the beginnings of a new demonic age, the obliteration of earth and mankind. It is believed that all that will stand in his way when this day comes are the true children that he created – the vanguard or Order of Dagon as they are now known. As such they possess powers that seemed illusive to other vampires. The Blessed One is thought to have been born a vampire, already possessing the knowledge and abilities that he would pass on to his progeny. Althoguh there is little evidence as to any of his attributes it is doubtful that he is an Old One, more probable is the fact that he is a result of demons and mankind inhabiting the same place – the missing link if you will. what is known is that he and his kin are formidible as foes or as comrades._

_In fact, they are the deadliest of all demon orders. Accounts state that they are proficient in Magicks both of the Light and Dark, have untapped psychic potential and are fundamentally stronger, faster and harder than normal vampires. Crypto-zoologists have suggested that their demon physiology is perhaps different from that of the traditional vampire. There are numerous reports of swords shattering on impact with the skin of an identified Dagonian, of them taking to the air in mockery of flight and of phenomenal displays of strength and speed. They are flawless fighters – all Childer are trained intensively and it is believed that they destroy those who are thought to be weak or unhealthy specimens. There is no record of a member ever falling to a Slayer but there are countless accounts of Slayers falling to them. When the first Slayer was created she and her watchers – the Shadow Men – went after the Order intent on stopping the spread of its evil. They were destroyed. _

Wes was beginning to worry. As he read on everything told him that the vampires within this order were more than the average bloodsucker. The list of powers that they had was scary. They were unlike anything he had ever contemplated before. They were perfect killers, strong, smart and fast. They were the elite and Wes wasn't sure that any of them were ready to face the premiers of demonic destruction. He continued to read, pausing when he came to a section from a Watcher's Diary. He couldn't recall ever having read of Julian LeClerq or Alexandre Gustav whilst at the Academy.

_March 7th 1342._

_Julian LeClerq and his Slayer Marianne encountered the Vampyr Maximillian on their journey from Rome to Ravenna. Both were slain in the line of duty. LeClerq's clerk was the only one to escape the attack and has been severely traumatised by what he witnessed. We are unable to gather much information from him as his ramblings resemble that of a mad man but he has said that Maximillian displayed strength enough to break through the heavy oak gates to the manor they resided in. He appeared to fly and was wielding magic enough to destroy the spell casters that Marianne was protecting. Three powerful mages taken down by an individual vampyr – the Order of Dagon is becoming more powerful with every passing year. The clerk – a young man by the name of James Tanner – says that Marianne barely fought him. He killed her within seconds. Sirs, she was one of the most experienced Slayers to date and had faced at least five Masters in her time. My advice is that we continue our surveillance of the Order and if possible find some way to gain more information. With Maximillian, they now have at least eight magic wielding Masters and this is the third account to comment on their abnormal strength. Today, a devastating blow has been delivered to those in the service of Good._

_March 10th 1342_

_James Tanner was found dead this morning, having slashed his own throat at some point during the night. Ever since he arrived he has been talking of a whisper that only he can hear. A whisper that repeats how each of his companions fell to the vampyr. There is no doubt in my mind that somehow Maximillian has forced this man to take his own life in an effort to prevent him telling us anything useful. If that is the case, then hypnosis is another trait that we should be aware of when dealing with these creatures. I am returning tomorrow and hope to be with you in two weeks time. I must show you the drawings that Tanner did before his death; they are too disturbing and valuable for anyone else to deliver._

_Alexandre Gustav never made it to the Watcher's Council. He was found, broken in half a few days later. All materials that pertained to the Order of Dagon were missing. _

Wes read on, all the while noting down the powers that this order possessed. So far it covered an entire side of his A5 spiral notebook. He had nothing concrete though – only eye witness accounts of men scared out of their wits by the devils that have come to play with them. He turned the page. More neat writing, snippets of eye-witness accounts and general observation. One paragraph caught his eye though and sent a spark of fear coursing down his spine.

_No member of the Order of Dagon is allowed to sire a Childe without the permission of the rest of the Order. If a suitable human cannot be found for each member then they are known to take strong vampires and re-Sire them. Famous cases of this include…_

If Wes was reading this right that meant that Gabriel had the full backing of his order to be here after Angel. The rest of the paragraph indicated that if they wanted a Childe then they got it. Nothing survived this Order once it set its mind on something.

As Wes read more he discovered that these vampires were very unusual in the fact that they were very much like humans. They were a close knit family and although they hunted and were savage killers when under attack they were for the main part very fair. They only killed to feed – there were no reports of killing for pleasure. There were also reports of them actually being of service to the Watcher's Council at times, taking down rogue vampire clans or demons that the Slayer was unable to deal with. They were approachable as long as they weren't under attack. Wes wondered whether he would be able to reason with Gabriel. If he could meet the vampire and talk to him there may be another solution. From what he had read of Gabriel he already knew that he loved Angel very much. There was an entire passage devoted to the fact that Gabriel had found his perfect Childe but it had been stolen from him. For the following year Gabriel mourned the loss of his Childe, until it became necessary for his Sire to take him in hand. The details were sketchy but it seemed as if the loss of Angel almost killed Gabriel. He also never sired any other Childer. He was still waiting for Angel.

Wes had come to one conclusion through his study; to take on the Order in any way would be downright madness. They were far too powerful and they were spread across the globe. Gabriel was one of the youngest of the Order and he had taken out fourteen slayers in the past three months, single-handedly. He was also the Childe of one of the Elders of the Order. If they killed him there would be hell to pay. They were well and truly backed into a corner and Wes couldn't see any real way out. Well he could, but he didn't want to think about giving Angel over to them. He knew that Angel would go if there was no other solution and with every article that Wes read it was becoming more and more apparent that he might actually have to leave them. He really was all that stood in the way of the Slayers and a war that they were not ready for. Dagon could call on every vampire sect in the world to help them and they wouldn't hesitate to wipe out every single Slayer if the need arose.

They protected their own with a vehemence that made nuclear war seem like a small tiff. If Gabriel died or Angel was forcibly kept from him they wouldn't get the chance to defend themselves.

He picked up the book and flicked to Gabriel's biography. He was one of the mysteries of the Order. He was over five hundred years old, had never claimed any Childer and was well known as a formidable fighter. There were rumours of him having psychic abilities that strong that he had wiped the minds of those that ever met him. Watchers had never managed to observe him without his knowledge and he was known for leaving them gifts of fine diaries and beautiful pens to observe their findings in. He was also one of the Guards of the Order. Wes knew that this meant that he was trained to defend 'Dagon' – the Blessed One - at all costs and fight him if need be. Nothing he read made him believe that they could stop him by force should he come after Angel, after all not even magic would work on a psychic that strong.

The book contained a daguerreotype of Gabriel and although Angel's drawing of him had been stunning, the real thing was much more beautiful. There was no way that anyone would be able to resist his charms should he desire them. He was so exotic looking that it was easy to understand how people could fall under his spell. He could very clearly see Angel with someone like that. He was the exact picture of eroticism and protection – he was what Angel needed. His picture exuded a sensuality that was just begging to be defied; it was as if he reached out to Wes from the paper.

He sighed and slammed the book close. It didn't matter how much he read, it all said the same thing. The Order was made of vampires stronger than your average and Gabriel had the backing of the Order to come after Angel. It was a mess and there was no easy answer as far as Wes could see. He buzzed Harmony and asked her to fetch him another template – his spell one and some sort of refreshment. He needed to find a way to contact the PTB. He gazed out of the window and wondered how his life had become so complex. Hearing the door open he turned to relieve Harmony of the books or the coffee but was surprised to see the Scoobies, Gunn, Fred, Lorne and Spike filing in. He knew that they had had the day off – he had intended to do the same but, well nothing ever went to plan in his life. He looked at the clock on the wall – it was later than he had imagined. The sun had set over an hour ago. He felt a swarm of butterflies settle in his stomach. He had the ominous feeling that tonight was going to be the end of their world.

"Hey Wes! These guys wanna know where the boss is. We're goin' huntin for our mystery vamp." It was strange to see Gunn in his street clothes rather than Hugo Boss suits. The baggy hoodie and dark jeans seemed both sit on him like a second skin but at the same time looked… wrong. He carried himself as a professional lawyer and not a street kid. He wondered how much Gunn had really changed since they had come here. He looked like he was trying to recapture someone that he could never be again and it made Wes wonder how much they had all changed. Had they really made a deal with the devil?

"Yes, whilst we may not trust Angel anymore we are not so conceited that we don't see that he knows this city better than us. We stand a better chance looking for the vampire with him rather than without him." Giles' analytic outlook on the situation merely enflamed Wesley's anger. He couldn't believe that he had looked up to this man once. His attitude completely validated Wes' belief in Angel and their mission. Not wanting to deal with where Angel was and feeling the need to keep Gabriel from them – if only for Angel's sake – he asked them the question he had been dying to ask since they had arrived.

"When will you be leaving LA?"

"Well not the answer we were looking for but… as soon as we catch the vampire. Why?" Buffy was rather taken aback by the sudden rudeness of the normally prudish watcher.

"Well it may be better if you left sooner. Say tomorrow. The vampire situation will be taken care of. I can have a private jet, complete with necro-tempered glass, prepped and ready to leave for wherever you want at dawn."

Harmony entered before he could say more and handed him a large book. "There's the template and here's your coffee – there was no tea left. I cancelled all of Angel's appointments for tomorrow as well. Is there anything else Wes?"

"No that'll be all Harmony. Thank you."

Harmony nodded and turned to leave, but paused before she got to the door. "Is Angel gonna be ok? Cos he hasn't been looking so good recently and Cordy would've wanted me to watch out for him."

"He should be fine Harmony. I am sure that he and Cordy would appreciate your concern. Why don't you take the morning off tomorrow? Come in after lunch."

"Ok thanks, Wes!" He offered her a smile as she left. How was it that an evil creature noticed suffering and enquired about it when the soulful ones amongst them couldn't? Sometimes he had to question the fight he was in. He turned his back to the group that he had been dealing with, laying the book with the others on the conference table and took a sip of his coffee. At least she could make a better cup of coffee than Cordelia had been able to. He let himself wander whimsically into the past when it had just been the three of them. They had been happy then…

He shook off the thoughts; he really couldn't dwell on them now and turned back to the others.

"Would you like me to organise that for you?"

"Watcher, what the hell is wrong with Angel?" Spike had been ignoring Harmony until that point and now he was very focused on the conversation.

"Nothing for you to worry about Spike. I am sure that we'll have him back on his feet in a few days. Now if there is nothing else, I have some research that is quite pressing."

"Wesley? I thought that you were having the day off?"

Fred's quiet and soothing voice made Wes feel extremely tired and worn out. He glanced at the clock. The sedative should have worn off Angel by now and hopefully he was feeling stronger than he had earlier in the day.

"Something came up."

He saw the uneasy looks that were thrown his way but chose to ignore them. Had it just been his team, his friends, then he would have told them everything, but he didn't trust the Scoobies not to race in there and ruin everything. Half of him wanted to tell them just who they were messing with and the other half wanted to let them fall to their own arrogance. He had never known he could possess such vengeance, but there it was bubbling away under the surface. He knew that he couldn't act on it but the temptation to do so was so sweet that he craved it more than anything. He took a deep breath and steadied himself on the desk, desperate to get his mutinous feelings under control. He turned back to them.

"Would you like me to sort the jet out?"

In retrospect Wes should have expected the fist that flew at him, but to be honest he was too angry at the others to be watching them carefully. Spike had him by the throat and pinned to the desk, demanding to know what was wrong with Angel and where he was. Wes wasn't in the mood to be threatened and the spring loaded stake that he was pressing into Spike's chest made that point rather effectively. Spike backed away but his eyes, flickering between blue and gold, told a thousand tales. He wasn't letting this go and Wes was quite happy to give it to him. He was going to give Spike everything.

"You want to know what's wrong with Angel. Where should I start? Should I start with last night when the vampire that you're tracking found him? Should I start with three days ago when I picked his battered body up off the penthouse floor? Should I start a week ago when this lot turned up and started to give him hell about the choices that we've made? Maybe I should start a month ago when you claimed him and promised that you'd love him. Or perhaps I should go back a hundred years to when you raped him! Where do you want me to start Spike!"

By the time that he had finished everyone was wearing an expression that was somewhere between horror and disbelief.

"He told you?" Spike's voice was soft and calm not showing any hint of the worry that had suddenly flooded his system. When he had asked Angel why he hadn't told them all that night what he had done as William, Angel had told him that it was the past and that it was none of their business. That he was tired of dwelling on the past and wanted to move to the future, their future. If he was thinking about it again then something was very wrong.

For a second Wes actually felt sorry for Spike, he had been young and overcome by bloodlust, but he couldn't shake the image of Angel curled up on his bed; blankets pulled as high as they could go, tears still staining his cheeks and mumbling in his sleep. He had seemed so lost and alone and Spike held a lot of the blame.

"He told me everything."

That confession was all it took for the tears that he had been holding back on his friend's behalf to begin to well and roll down his cheeks. He didn't care anymore. He knew in his heart that they had lost Angel and none of it seemed worth it anymore. Hysterical laughter overcame his tears and he sank into the chair he had been sat in before they had arrived. How had Angel coped with this knowledge? Wes was hardly keeping it together and it wasn't even about him. Angel hadn't though had he? He hadn't slept for almost a week and was currently sedated in the hotel.

The seductive face of Gabriel watched him from its place in the template and he couldn't resist tracing a finger over the face that had come to damn them all. Those sharp cat eyes stared at him, mocking his efforts to keep him from Angel.

"Who's the hottie?"

Dawn's voice snapped him from his mini-breakdown a slight smile curved on his face. He didn't have to tell them, because they didn't want to use the resources of Wolfram and Hart. He would tell them though – he was a bigger person than that, but he could have some fun first.

"Have a guess."

"Should I know?" Her elfin features crinkled in her concentration and he laughed out loud, his anger so consuming that he couldn't control his faculties anymore.

"Come on – Andrew, you're the new Watcher on the block, I'm sure that you're vast experience will be able to tell you who this is!" He watched with a perverse sense of delight as the boy began to stutter his way through an answer. He took the book from Andrew and thrust it in Giles' direction. "Come, come now _Mr Giles_, I expect more from the Head of the prestigious International Council of Slayers and Watchers."

"What the hell is wrong with you?"

Buffy, all five foot three of her was stood there glaring at him, hands on her hips, mouth pulled into an impatient and unimpressed pout. She tried to glare him into submission but he wasn't going to back down. He was fed up of their attitudes and he wanted to, no he needed to bring them all back to the reality. He smiled down at her and straightened his shirt. Graciously he took the book back from Giles and turned to them with a polite smile on his face.

"Why don't you all take a seat? Please." He gestured to the empty seats around the table and watched as they took one, all of them eying him warily as if he was about to pull a Carrie on them or – given their location – a Lizzie Borden. Either wasn't that unimaginable in Wolfram and Hart.

Spike was still struggling between his shock that Wes knew everything, his desire to know where Angel was and his utter confusion at the new Wes to make any snarky comments. The LA crew were very worried and the Scoobies were annoyed at the mockery that they had just been subject to. Nevertheless they all took a seat as he directed.

"Would anyone care for any refreshments?"

There was a unanimous refusal and Wes sorted his books into neat piles, keeping Angel's sketchbook out of the way for the time, as he tried to gather his thoughts. He retook his seat and steepled his hands in front of him, taking them all in. He had watched Angel in action too many times and knew how uncomfortable his rapid changing of mannerisms was making everyone. Deciding that he had put them through enough torment, and knowing that what was coming was going to torment them all the more he began to speak.

"I'm going to tell you a little tale, please don't interrupt because I'd consider it rather rude."

He watched as the all nodded and gave Fred a small smile – he didn't want her to be hurt by all of this.

"Six days ago, people that we assumed to be our friends, or if not friends then at least comrades, arrived on our doorstep with a dual purpose. Firstly, they came to reclaim a member of their team, a member that by all accounts wasn't really appreciated until he died for them and secondly they came to enlist our help. People who ask for aid on anything usually have the decency to show a little respect to those that are going to go out of their way to help them. Now we accepted that they didn't trust Wolfram and Hart and to be honest we don't. We are under no illusions that this company is in vassalage to undoubtedly evil demons, three very powerful demons, and that as a consequence they attract a certain clientele. However, we had hoped that said people would have had the wisdom to at least trust us.

"Perhaps their opinions of us reflect their own subconscious. I am sure that anyone offered a motor pool of vintage cars; a luxury penthouse and six figure salaries would undoubtedly jump at the chance but let's get one thing clear… Angel isn't anyone. Angel is working to earn his redemption and as he already is a very wealthy individual, material possessions don't tend to mean that much to him. What matters to him are his family and his mission. He is a champion no matter what you might think and he has proved it time and time again. Perhaps you need to witness it to believe it but I know that he has saved everyone in this room at least once – either directly or indirectly.

"Now coming here gave him the real chance to protect his loved ones. He gained the amulet that you used to shut the Hellmouth, he gained the best medical and mystical care possible for Cordelia, and he even gained enough money to put into the Watcher's Council accounts so that you all had something to live on. Each and every one of you has a minimum five figure trust fund should anything happen to Angel. Angel never took this place for his own gain.

"Everyone with me so far?"

He received looks of shock at his revelations so far and he knew that some of them could already sense his intent. Willow was already blushing, but his attack wasn't aimed at her but at Giles and Buffy and eventually Spike. But he had to get there first.

"Now, these individuals refused to even ponder the possibility that being in charge of a turn-key, state-of-the-art, multitasking operation might actually have benefits for the fight against evil. We have access to every text ever written, money to buy whatever weaponry or magical paraphernalia we require, the ability to trace anyone, anywhere… oh and we know who the biggest players in the demonic underworld of LA and California are. We can keep them on as short a leash as we need to. But you just saw the material wealth and have spent as much time as possible belittling and attacking us rather than consider the bigger picture. We are in a war and you take any advantage that you can to fight that war."

Small looks of contrition had spread on to the faces of Dawn and Andrew, but Buffy and Giles still seemed stoically unmoved.

"Now perhaps, should you want anymore help you will think about treating us with a little more respect? Especially if you want me to tell you who the mystery 'hottie' is."

"And why should we care about a man in a picture?"

"Well Kennedy, I had gotten the impression that you were searching for him."

Eleven shocked faces shot from him to the book and back again.

"Deleo."

All of the information that the book had contained vanished before anyone could read anything. Shock turned to outrage. Inside Wes was crowing at his victory over them but outwardly his face was the perfect mask of neutrality. He saw Giles reach across to take the book.

"I may have shown you how to work the templates Giles, but you don't know who you are looking for."

"Well, if you stopped bloody grand-standing and told us what we needed to know we could get out of here and stop him before somebody else gets killed!"

"Grand-standing?" Wes laughed, a light little chuckle at the audacity of Giles to suggest that to him. "Funny. Actually, _Gabe_, isn't going to kill anyone."

"Really, cos I thought that was what vampires did. How can you be sure that he won't kill? He sign a contract?"

From the patented expression on her face Wes knew that Kennedy was a rich little princess who was used to being right about things. He chanced a look at everyone else. All of the Scoobies but Willow seemed to be agreeing with her, Spike looked suspicious and his own team seemed conflicted. They were obviously enjoying his 'grand-standing' but they were worried about the reason behind it. He knew that they had realised that Angel was the reason and that Wes wanted to get the Scoobies under control but none of them could possibly guess what the motivation was.

"No, but if he kills whilst in LA he stands to lose something very dear to him."

"What?"

"His Childe."

"You have his Childe in captivity?" Giles couldn't help the fact that Wes' knowledge had peaked his interest. If he were honest, he was jealous at the growth that Wes had undergone. He wasn't the bumbling idiot that he had been, he was confident and deadly… and in total control.

"No. And if I am honest, his Childe is only holding him at bay. If we make the smallest error in this he will destroy us."

"Umm – Watcher Wes? Case you hadn't noticed we have two slayers, a wicked powerful Wicca and two vampires on our team. How's he gonna stop that?" Xander's mocking tones glanced off him, barely touching his steely veneer.

"Easily. He's a member of the Order of Dagon."

There it was the cowed expression that he had wanted to see on Giles' face. Those three little words had been all it took to break that self serving façade.

"They're a myth." The words were softly spoken as Giles couldn't be sure that he actually believed that at this minute.

"Who are the Order of Dagon Wes?"

"They're the premier of demonic high society Freddikins, and not to be taken lightly." Lorne's red eyes showed the faintest hints of fear and his voice held none of its usual joviality.

"They're more than that Green. They're the bollocks when it comes to vampires. Nothing is as powerful as they are – even the Master didn't dare to cross them and he was the most egotistical bastard that I know."

"Spike's right. They are powerful." Wes reached for the book and with a sibilant whisper commanded the text. "Gabriel, Order of Dagon. This is your vampire. He is over five hundred years old and is proficient in the use of all forms of magic, an unparalleled psychic and a first class killer. He has killed thirty slayers in his life and his Sire killed his first slayer when he was a year old fledge. The Order of Dagon are the direct descendants of the first vampire and as such they are a force to be reckoned with. They are there to protect him from those who would kill him and stop him should he try to walk the earth again. Do you really think that we stand a chance against them?"

An uncomfortable silence settled over the group. The Order of Dagon didn't sound like a walk in the park, but they had faced worse – right? Willow gave Kennedy's hand an affectionate squeeze and cleared her throat.

"What about his Childe? Won't he or she help us?"

Wes smiled faintly. He had already accepted that Gabriel was going to take their friend and but his heart still rebelled at the idea, even though there was very little he could do.

"His Childe – or prospective Childe is already doing everything that he can. Gabriel can only be swayed so far though."

"Perhaps we should get him and Angel here and come up with a better strategy then English."

Gunn made for the phone to dial Angel's mobile but he dropped the handset when Wes' hesitant confession reached his ears. He knew that he had promised Angel he wouldn't say anything but he needed to keep Angel out of this for the time being and stop the Light Brigade blundering in again. So Wes did the one thing that he could and defied God to strike him down…

"Angel is the Childe in question."


	7. Attestation

_Angel awoke a good few hours after Wesley had left him feeling more refreshed than he had done in days. He knew that Wes had drugged him, he could smell the tranquiliser in the air, but he was more than grateful. Had he not Angel knew that he wouldn't have slept – he'd have either dreamed and woken up scared out of his mind or he'd have laid there refusing to sleep for fear of dreams or vision flashbacks. He lay in his bed and felt the tickle of the evening air play over his chest. He had no desire to go anywhere for the time being. He just wanted to stay here and escape the world. He revelled in listening to the sounds of the hotel settling. There was no heartbeat, so Wes wasn't here, but the creaks and groans of the old wood gave the hotel a heartbeat of its own. He focused on them, blocking out all the noise from the outside world._

_As he drifted off into a boneless slumber, lulled by the soothingly familiar noise of his hotel, he was suddenly aware of the presence of another in his room. He bolted up in bed, the sheets slipping to pool at his waist._

"_Still so beautiful amour."_

_Gabriel._

_He was sat in an easy chair in the corner of the room facing the bed, illuminated by the soft light that entered through the window. He looked so majestic as he sat there bathed in the glow of the street lights and Angel couldn't help but shiver at the look he was receiving._

"_You shouldn't be in here." Angel wrapped his arms around his torso as if to ward off that gaze. Those green eyes were flaying him alive. He could feel them tracking over his skin leaving burning pathways in their wake._

"_Shouldn't? Mon Cher, if you are referring to those little spells that have been set up around the place, I merely bent them to my will. Nothing stands in my way when I want something." He got up from his seat and moved to sit on the bed so close to Angel that their faces were practically touching._

"_What about what I want?" Angel could do little more than whisper the question. He shifted further away on the bed as if to deny the magnetism that was pulling and screaming at him to move towards Gabriel._

"_You want love Petit; you want someone to hold you and love you and keep you safe from the outside world. I promised to do that once. Does it surprise you that I should want to do it again?" Gabriel moved closer to his desire. He lightly brushed his fingers over Angel's cheek and lips._

"_I have a soul…" Angel felt himself falling towards the dark figure that had once been his entire world. He clutched frantically for reasons to hold Gabriel off when all he wanted to do was pull him closer._

"_I don't care, I just want you." Gabriel was now whispering across Angel's lips, an imitation of a kiss but all the more intimate._

"_But the claim…" Angel tried to pull back but Gabriel followed, pushing him down into the pillows, covering Angel's lips with his own rather than answer._

_Angel had forgotten how Gabriel had kissed him; he thought that he had made it up during those nights that the Master ripped him apart, made it too perfect so that it became his only escape. He thought that Gabriel and everything that his kisses had evoked were merely dreams, fantasies he'd created to ward off the demons. He hadn't. It was fireworks and bones melting. It was coming home and going away all at once. It was everything that he had ever wanted. He moaned when the lips left him as Gabriel removed his silk shirt. They were then back with a forceful passion that threatened to undo Angel completely. He was revelling in sensations that he had been unwittingly craving for nearly a quarter of a millennium. _

_He was drowning in Gabriel's touch, taste and scent. _

_Gabriel had heard everything that his love had told to the Watcher. He was ready to rip the other vampire apart, and the Powers that sent the visions to such a troubled mind. Right now though, he was more concerned in bringing Angel back to him, he would deal with the claim later. After all, he now had permission to Sire Angel and he wasn't going to let a simple claim stand in the way of that. Theoretically he knew that he'd either have to kill the other vampire or wait for the other to walk away, which was the most likely thing to happen… but he wasn't going to let his Angel go..._

"What!" That was the general reaction that met Wesley's confession, although a few choice expletives fell from Spike's mouth.

"Gabriel is here to make Angel his Childe."

"Does that mean that Angel knew he was here before?"

Buffy couldn't help the sense of anger and betrayal that was coursing round her system. Slayers had been killed and Angel had known who the culprit was the whole time. She was going to seriously hurt him when he got back.

_Soft lips, soft as feathers, air kissed the sculptured torso that arched to meet every pass those lips made. Gentle fingers traced lazy circles up and down, up and down; never stopping their movement for a second, not even letting silken fabric interrupt their process._

"He knew nothing until Giles confirmed the murder locations yesterday and Gabriel met him last night."

"He met him! Is the vampire a nice big pile of dust now?" There was no humour in Xander's question, just a sheer contempt for all things nocturnal.

"No, Gabriel left but he isn't going away. The only thing standing between you and Gabriel right now is Angel. And I am not sure how long he can keep it up."

"Well he doesn't need to keep it up! Guys suit up – we're going hunting! Now!"

Buffy moved from her seat at the table and slung her weapons kit over her shoulder. Xander, Kennedy, Andrew and Giles followed suit. No one else moved – they kept their eyes trained on Wes who was desperately trying to avoid their gaze. He'd backed himself into a corner though. They had all heard the worry in his voice. Moreover, they had all heard his last comment for what it was. A huge slip meant more for Wes' ears then for theirs.

"Guys?"

Buffy and her team were waiting by the door. Waiting for everyone to come with.

"Spike?"

Spike didn't waver. His baby blues darkening to a deep unforgiving beryl as gut wrenching fear flooded his system. The vampire that they didn't stand a chance against was here for his Claim, his Angel. If he thought that he could take Spike's property then he had never heard of William the Bloody! What they needed to do was come up with a plan, bring Angel here and then…

"Watcher… where is Angel?"

_Cool skin against cool skin, friction steadily causing an increase in temperature. Sweat coating both deific figures with a golden dew that made their immortality glow, easing the slow undulating movements of their bodies. Strong nails teasing the velvety flesh leaving quivering furrows in their wake. Teeth nipped all the protuberant muscle that they could reach. Some bites harder than the others eliciting low whines of penury._

"Wesley?"

Fred moved to take the hand of her man. She could see that he was hurting so much and wanted nothing more that to reach out and hold him. Rock him gently like you would a child and banish the demons that were troubling his mind. Unfortunately though, the only demon troubling Wes was one that she would never banish – he was their demon, their Angel, her handsome man. He squeezed her hand lightly and shook himself from his stupor.

"Angel's safe. I thought it best to keep him away from this until I decide what to do." Wes sighed, a slow, heavy sigh that only began to tell the tale of his apprehension.

"What's to decide? We go, we slay, we party! Isn't that what we usually do when facing creatures of the night?"

"Haven't you heard a single thing that I have said! My God! Are you stupid or just being purposefully obstructive? Gabriel isn't an ordinary vampire! If we did face him the best that we can hope for is that he kills us. If somehow we manage to kill him then his Order will rain down fire and brimstone on every slayer they can get their hands on. Your girls haven't had their powers for even a year, how do you think that they will cope against an Order who's youngest member is 200 years old? How are they going to fight magic?"

Wes stared at each and every one of them in turn – the time for nicety was over. They needed to have their butts kicked into realising that there was too much at stake to go rushing in… stakes raised. He needed them to realise it now.

"Sit down. No one is leaving this office until they understand what is at risk. You're actions here may very well cost hundreds of girls their lives. You gave them that power it is therefore you bloody responsibility to keep them alive because you are the ones who damned them."

"That's what I am trying to do!" Buffy slammed her fists down on the table, splintering the wood in her anger.

"I said sit down Buffy. You never thought of the consequences of your actions and now they are going to cost you something. But I will be damned if I let any girls die because you rush out of here half –cocked. I took an oath as a Watcher to protect the Slayer line at all costs and I intend to uphold that oath with every breath still left in my body. But know this – I will walk through hell before I let your actions bring any harm to Angel. He has suffered enough."

"And how will this harm Angel?"

Despite the force of Wes' words, the honour in their meaning and the deadly calm way in which they were delivered, something in Giles still rebelled at the idea of this competent Watcher before him. A watcher that he knew the Council would be lucky to have.

"Firstly – it will break his heart."

_Angel moaned deep in his throat as he welcomed Gabriel back into his body, his heart, his mind... into his soul. He felt so complete for the first time in so long that tears escaped his eyes to make room for all of the new and old feelings that were flooding back._

"Secondly, I fear that it will break his body."

_He arched up into the protection of Gabriel's chest, matching each deep, gentle thrust with his own twist of his hips. He wrapped his arms around his salvation and held it tight._

"Lastly – I fear that it will break his mind."

_Angel screamed in ecstasy as he came, a splash of cool liquid coating their chests and filling him inside – the total antithesis of the heat of their passion._

"Angel loves him."

_White hot tips of iridescent fangs pushed through corded muscle and he was sucked into the swell of blood loss…_

"He's loved him for 240 years. What makes you think that he won't protect Gabriel with everything he is?"

_Wine and roses and anise and cardamom and paprika danced together, joining and mixing and flowing from the lacerated wrist in a stream of scarlet and into Angel's mouth._

"What has he got holding him here?"

_Both figures, weakened and strengthened by the exchange collapsed into one another, arms holding tight, legs mingling, dark head resting upon a pale milky chest as brown eyes drifted into a safe slumber. _

There was a spectrum of emotion laid out before Wes like an appetising buffet ranging from Buffy's disbelief to Fred's wide eyed heartbreak. All the emotions that humanity was capable of flickered over their faces within the few moments of silence Wes allowed them. He didn't dare look at Spike; the fact that the vampire had said nothing immediately chilled him to the bone. He was dangerous when silent.

"Do you see what I am saying? This isn't you're ordinary vampire and he has us by the balls. This may destroy what's left of Angel."

…_To die: to sleep: __  
__No more; and by a sleep to say we end __  
__The heartache and the thousand natural shocks __  
__That flesh is heir to,--'t is a consummation __  
__Devoutly to be wish'd._

He slumped further down in his chair and dropped his head into his hands. There was nothing that he could do. Hearing it from Angel had been bad enough but saying it himself… saying it himself meant that he had to truly realise the reality of the situation. Steady, slow tears began to fall when Fred turned to him, hope and disbelief alive in her innocent eyes.

"But, he's a Champion… he's my handsome man. He's not going to just walk away. Wes? Why would he just walk away?"

Wes couldn't answer her, but Lorne could.

"Because Honeypie there isn't that much of Angel left anymore. He's been drowning not waving and we've all missed it." He glanced at Wesley's bereft face. "Well maybe not all of us, but we should have seen more than we did."

"English? Is he right?" Wes had never heard that choked sound in Gunn's voice before. Chocolate eyes sparkled, wetter than they were usually.

Wes couldn't respond.

He moved to look out at the city that they had all done so much for. Why was it that they had to sacrifice so much for the good of people they didn't know?

"Remember just over a month ago? We found those five murdered nuns?"

"You mean when Holloway skipped dimensions on us?"

"No I mean when Angel quit." He turned back to everyone. The backdrop of the city lights wasn't cheery, despite their gaudy colours, it was oppressive… it reminded them all that there were all those people out there that needed Angel.

"He was ready to give up then. He hates it here; he hates the fact that he has had to compromise his ideals to try to help people. Before all of this he didn't doubt anything. He knew that he was redeeming himself. He never thought that he would ever balance out the cosmic scales but he realised that it wasn't about that, it was about doing what you can do because you have that power. It wasn't about destiny or a mission; it was a choice that he made freely. He'd been given the chance to try to show the world that there were still heroes out there. He knew that the Powers had his back, even though they enjoyed putting it in a lot of danger, he knew they had faith in him.

"Then we lost Cordy and came here and a tiny voice of doubt started to gnaw at him. Then Spike arrived and Lindsey started his little game up, made Angel doubt that he was a Champion. He doubted it so much that he no longer believed he could do any good here and he was ready to quit. Angel doesn't quit. So Cordy was sent back to put her guy back track – that's what she told him. She said that the Powers owed her one and that she called it in to pull Angel out of his funk and set him on the path again. He made her proud. He threw himself back into it with a vengeance; he was a force to be reckoned with.

"But things change. Dreams can destroy our souls if we let them. Angel got a temporary reprieve from his nightmares and for a whole month he found a peace and safety that he had never known before. He felt so safe and loved and he felt as though he could do anything. But his dreams are back and he is terrified of sleeping because he can feel himself being pulled back into hell, he can feel it on the back of his neck and it is killing him."

He saw Spike shudder as the realisations of what Wes was saying got through to him – he was beginning to understand…

"Do you know that he hasn't slept for the past five nights? That every morning I have picked him up off the floor of his living room because he has been too afraid to try to sleep and that he is waiting until he has the courage to walk into the sun? have any of you seen that he has been walking funny because he has broken ribs and bruises all over him? Have any of you paid any attention to the fact that he has barely spoken since you got here? Or were you all too caught up in your own goddam lives!"

With every statement he made Wes' ire grew. It was infectious. It spread into every pore of his body and festered. It began to boil, making his skin glow with a pink tinge and his body quake at the power of his emotions. He wasn't sure who he was yelling at any more – Spike, the Scoobies, them, Gabriel, the Powers… Angel? No he wasn't mad at Angel. How could he be? Angel was hanging on by a thread and that thread was Wes. He wished to god that he had some kind of power; that he was as strong as Buffy so he could batter some sense into her and Spike or that he was as talented a practioner as Willow so he could make them all feel the despair he had seen in Angel's eyes. All he had was his voice and he wasn't sure that was enough.

"None of you have the right to call yourselves heroes or friends! He is dying from this – its will kill him unless he finds a way to get out!"

"I think that you're being a bit melodramatic now Wesley. Dreams can be intense yes but…"

Giles never got to finish his patronising statement as Wes' fist collided with his jaw, snapping his head back. Not giving the older man chance to recover he wound a hand round his throat, slamming him into the hard table top. Before he could do more a furious Buffy threw him off Giles, tossing him effortlessly across the room. Fred hurried to his side as did Gunn and Lorne; all worried that Buffy might have seriously hurt him. The Scoobies were at Giles' side in a second, all staring in horror at Wes – unsure of what was wrong with Wes but knowing that he was seriously unhinged.

In the middle of both groups was a devastated Spike, unsure of where he belonged or what he was going to do. No, he knew where he belonged, he belonged with Angel, but would admitting that cost him his friends? Would he have to choose between Buffy and Angel – because if that was the case then he wasn't sure that he could choose. He was so in love with Angel that it hurt, he had always loved the dark vampire but he had loved Buffy too. She had been his world at one point and he wasn't sure that he could cut that part out of himself. It would be the same with Dru… He ignored the traitorous voice that told him he had threatened to stake her for Buffy.

"What the hell is wrong with you Wesley!" Buffy, satisfied that her Watcher was going to be ok wheeled on the man that had threatened him in the first place.

Wesley had had the time to get a grip on his emotions during his reprieve on the floor. He needed to stay strong so that he could work all of this out for Angel. He pulled all of the anger back into himself and honed it, shaped it into a small flame that burned brightly in his despair. He turned icy blue eyes on Buffy, tears frozen in place and not even daring to fall.

"I'm sorry? Did you just ask me what was wrong? I have just told you that the ex love of your life is in the middle of a breakdown that may cost him, if not his sanity, then his life; then you're Watcher has the gall to claim that I'm being melodramatic and you want to know what's wrong with me? When did you all lose your humanity?

"Cordelia and I always used to wonder why it was that Angel would never let us in, why he always felt that he had to do everything alone, why he kept everyone at a distance. He did it because it was the only way he could cope. It has taken him a hundred years to build up a strong enough coat of armour that allows him to deal with his past and all the other crap in his life and still stay strong. Now that armour is gone. Worn down and eroded into nothingness. He has nothing left to keep the demons away and his soul, the soul of a twenty seven year old Irish boy who feared his father, is being ripped to shreds. Good God! I've had to sedate my _best friend_ to get him to go to sleep! He is currently, lying in the Hyperion, drugged and surrounded by countless protective wards and barrier spells because that is the only way he feels safe!"

He paused to take a breath – willing his feelings to calm down to more manageable levels before he continued.

"We're losing him. Angel is on the verge of utter collapse… and we all have Spike to thank for that."

All eyes turned to Spike. The Scoobies were shocked to see him stagger as if those words had dealt him a physical blow. He hung his head in shame at the truth of Wes' words, pulling his duster tight around his hurting form as if to ward off the truth of these words.

"Congratulations _Spike_ – you've managed to break Angel. Not even Hell did that. Guess you are the Big Bad after all. How's the soul? Still there?"

The viciousness bit into his flesh like thousands of tiny needles, pushing in through his skin and leaving poisonous venom in its wake. He could feel it, thick and black and oppressive, moving through his body to the one place that he never wanted it to go – his heart. It oozed through him like bitumen, swallowing every good feeling it came across and leaving a trail of contempt behind it, like the iridescent paths left by snails in the morning sun. This trail wasn't bright and shimmering though, it was dark and abhorrent and he doubted that it would fade. He could feel it clawing up his throat and he felt sick. How could he have done this to Angel?

"Spike, what's he talking about?" Buffy moved towards the blonde vampire, unsure of why he looked so guilty... no… ill. Before she could say anymore, before she could get him to open up to her, Dawn interrupted.

"What? You mean because he saved the world?"

Over the past few days she and Spike had renewed their friendship and her loyalty to him was perhaps stronger than ever before. Wes said nothing to her barely acknowledging the fact that she had spoken at all. He just kept a level arctic blue stare on Spike, his eyes boring blazing holes through his flesh, but Fred acted. They say that the quiet ones are the ones that you have to watch out for and it was definitely the case as Fred delivered a spiteful, stinging slap to Spike's cheek, utter betrayal blazing in her wide eyes. He couldn't meet those eyes.

"Fred, leave him – it's not worth it. We need to help Angel." Lorne's uncharacteristic lack of pet names indicated the state of his feelings. He was so angry at Spike, he had warned the blonde against this very thing and he had been promised that Spike would do nothing to harm Angel. Well he'd got the nothing part right at least…

The Scoobies still looked unconvinced that they should help. Wes could see the thoughts ticking over in their minds, especially in light of Spike's involvement. He could almost hear their arguments and in light of the vivid way that they were dancing around his imagination he knew that he couldn't bear to hear them out loud. If appealing to their humanity wasn't going to work then he had only one more card to play…

"Look, I realise that we are not friends, that you don't trust us and probably never will. I also get that some of you don't like Angel." He avoided glancing directly at Giles and Xander and to a lesser extent Andrew and Kennedy but everyone knew to whom he referred. "But you don't know Angel. He has the biggest heart of anyone I know. He is a true hero and the world is seriously lacking in them nowadays. You haven't ever truly gotten to know him but if you did I think that you would find out how wrong you are. But that's not the point. We need your help to try to sort this mess out. None of us want people to die and somewhere inside I don't think that you want Angel to get hurt. But if that isn't enough motivation for you then I can only hope that this will change your mind."

He looked around and focused in on his group for his next revelation – after all, it affected them the most.

"Angel is the Seer for the Powers that Be."

Angel's eyes snapped open


	8. Premonition

Angel lurched up in his bed, wide eyed and panting. It couldn't have happened… there was no way that he had… Desperately he ran his hands over his throat, his breath gradually calming as he realised that it had just been a dream. Just another dream. He lifted himself from the sleep warmed bed and padded to the window. A cool breeze was blowing through the small crack he'd left open causing the gauzy curtain to billow out towards him. Lazily he stroked it back into place watching the silent street below. It was so strange to see LA quiet – even just a little part of it.

Despite the drain that his dream had on him, he felt strong; stronger than he had done in a very long time. It was amazing what a little sleep could do for a body – he'd have to let Wes drug him again some time if he was going to wake feeling like this. He'd have to let Wes know that he was ok with what he had done, he knew that Wes would be tearing strips off of himself over it – but Angel had needed him to take control and he had done.

He stretched, allowing his muscles to ease themselves out and shake off the lingering sluggishness. He felt peaceful, it was a nice change. He really didn't want to leave the room because he knew that the moment he did so he would have to let the real world back in and he wasn't ready to do that just yet. Prolonging the return to reality he tiredly moved towards the bathroom and flicked the shower on. He was so relieved that he had thought to keep the hotel in working order even though he no longer lived there. He still came here to think when things really got to him. It was his sanctuary.

He had come here after Cordelia died and just sat in his room, drawing countless images of her face pulled in every expression he could imagine. Well that was what he had intended on doing but all he had been able to draw was that smile. There was no one in the world with a smile that brilliant. No matter how bad he felt, just the simple memory of how that smile had lit up her face and the entire room always lifted his spirits. She, the memory of her, was his guardian angel. As he stood under the warm spray feeling the counterfeit rain batter down on him, heat spreading into every fibre of his being and washing away reality (for the time being), he tried to imagine what Cordy would have had to say about Gabriel. He imagined that it would have started with 'hello', ended with 'goodness' and there would have been a 'salty' thrown in there for good measure. She would have given him good advice. She always did. Wes was the one that solved the problems and Cordy was the one that handed out the tips that meant he functioned normally. After all, she was Cordelia Chase, she didn't think – she knew!

He knew that the only problem she would have had with Gabriel was that he was a vampire and therefore 'evil' but he thought that given how he had always treated Angel she would have been more tolerant of him than she would be of Spike at the minute. Yet he couldn't help his feelings. He loved Spike so deeply that it was dangerous. He'd given Spike everything that he had to give, given him more than he had ever given anyone but it hadn't been enough. He wasn't Buffy and that was obviously who Spike wanted. On the other hand Gabriel was here for him after 240 years of separation claiming that he wasn't going to let Angel go again and that he was not going to do anything that would make things difficult for Angel. Even though him being here was difficult for Angel.

He felt that he was being torn in half.

On one side was the 'good choice' – stick with Spike; he had a soul, was a champion, didn't kill, was destroying him from the inside – and on the other was Gabriel the 'bad choice'. Did he have the courage to take what he wanted for once? He had never really had anything that had been truly his. The humans that had infected his heart were all part of a world that he couldn't enter. They had sunshine and families and happiness and he constantly lost them to that daylight world. Connor had only been his for a few short months yet he had been stolen and he could never have him back. Had he been selfish, Angel would have erased the Quor'toth and given him a happy childhood in the Hyperion; but in the end he loved his son more than that and had given up the child that would never love him and who he would never force to. Spike had obviously never been his – he had still devoted a huge part of his heart to Buffy and Dru and Angel knew that there was no way that he could compete with them. Spike had been with Dru for almost 120 years and he had gotten a soul for Buffy…

Gabriel though… Gabriel was his. Gabriel had made him, shaped him and driven him despite the fact that Angel had refused to remember him. At first he had been so hurt that Gabriel abandoned him and just vanished, leaving him, a young fledge, sireless and alone in a foreign country. Then the hurt had vanished only to be replaced by blood searing anger. Angelus was forged in the heat of that inferno. He hated Gabriel. Hated him for leaving him to the Order that he had promised to save him from. Hated him for making the Master want him. Hated him for loving him, for really and truly loving him. Then as the Master became more brutal and he became more rebellious he cursed Gabriel for the position he was in. Gabriel had made him too human, he felt for Penn when he had seen that haunted look in his grey eyes that reminded him of his own childhood, and he broke himself over and over building himself back up as a creature that couldn't love anything so as to deny the fact that he was so desperate to feel it himself. He refused to fall into that trap again. He stormed his way through Europe making the world shudder at his feet so that no one would want to love him. He broke those he turned so that they only craved his blood and his cruelty. He never wanted to hear them demand his love or spill out sweet nothings in sibilant whispers over his skin.

Then he got his soul. The horror at what he had done because of love made him banish Gabriel to the deepest darkest depths of his psyche. He refused to believe that he and Gabriel had ever been lovers because if they had then what did that say about his ability to love? After a hundred years of denial and god knows how long in Hell, Gabriel was nothing more than a name in a book he couldn't touch and the faintest echo of green eyes in the darkness. Gabriel couldn't have been in his Hell because that wouldn't of hurt him – Buffy was deemed a better torment… how wrong they were.

The hot water continued to pound down on the creamy skin but the heat couldn't penetrate the icy cold that had spread from within. Angel was scared of the choices that he might make, what would his darkest desires cost the world this time? The last time he had acted on them Angelus, utterly devoid of any trace of Liam, had been unleashed to terrorise Sunnydale and pull the world that much closer to Hell. He couldn't afford to have what he wanted and he would never have what he needed… but that didn't stop his heart from shattering as he realised what he must do.

Shivering from his own cold, he stepped from the shower and towelled himself off. He dressed hurriedly and left the hotel on foot carrying with him a spare sketchbook safely tucked under one arm. He had one thing that he needed to do, one thing he wanted to do and then he would what he had to do. He would be the champion; even if it destroyed his soul… there wouldn't be anything of him left for vengeance to claim by the end of this night.

It was amazing what money could buy. People say that money can't buy true beauty, but they were wrong. If you are the CEO of Wolfram and Hart and throw enough money at people you can buy anything… except what you really want. But this place was beautiful. There was a small frothing brook that tumbled down through jagged rocks and was framed perfectly by the lush green grass that was a little longer here than elsewhere in the manicured park. This area was totally natural. Wild flowers grew in scattered clumps, their pretty coloured faces peaking out from the sea of green. It was sheltered by gnarled trees that were probably older than he was. Their roots had clawed their way out of the ground at points, making little hollows to sit in and wallow in the simplistic peace of the place. What was truly beautiful though, the thing that had made him say that he desperately wanted this spot was the moon. Its positioning meant that moonlight illuminated the little dell throughout the night, bathing it in silver and turning it into nothing short of a fairyland. The only thing he had altered was to plant a patch of Queen of the Night Cactus, a small bed of little white flowers that opened at night. He loved to sit and watch as the flower slowly opened revealing the golden stamens and releasing its exquisite perfume. It was magical.

It was Elysium.

After all they deserved nothing less.

When they had all become members of AI they all had one request, should they die they wanted to be cremated, not buried. None of them wanted their bodies resurrected to play host to a demon or a means of tormenting those left behind. When she had died, they had followed that request to the letter. The only thing was that none of them wanted to let go. They wanted a grave, a place to go and mourn – their own Mecca of grief - but nothing had seemed suitable. Until one night a demon hunt led them all to this shaded glen.

It was small – barely an acre, but an acre of perfection.

And somewhere beneath the Queen of the Night lay a black onyx box, wrapped up in a velvet bag. The top of the box was etched with one word – Cordy. A little way away from there, wrapped in another velvet bag was a video tape, a copy of Doyle's advert – all Angel had left of him. There were no grave markers, nothing that would tell people about the treasure beneath their feet, nothing to mar the beauty of the place. Angel had bought the entire acre – all of them expressing the same wish to lie here when their job was done as a family and that is what they were going to do.

Tonight though he hadn't come here to sit and talk or listen. Tonight he had come for a very different reason. Beside him sat two velvet bags, one an emerald green – like Doyle's – and the other was a deep red. Angel, settled between the roots of an old sycamore tree, inhaling the sweet aroma of the Queen of the Night and listening to the nocturnal noise, began to draw.

Two images on two pieces of quality cream paper.

The first was a boy, shaggy hair that came to his chin and seemed wild and untameable. Laughing eyes that crinkled at the edges and a wide smile that lifted his entire face. His body was wrapped in old fashioned clothes; breeches, a linen shirt that wasn't fastened properly and was untucked in places and hung over the waistband of the breeches, his waistcoat was a fine one and obviously expensive but hung off his body as if it were a poor rag. His buckled shoes were scuffed and his cravat was hanging round his neck. There was nothing refined about this boy except for the obvious joy he held for life.

On the second piece of paper he drew a man dressed in elegant clothing, fine silk waistcoat, impeccable breeches and perfectly starched shirt. A ruffed cravat tucked neatly under his chin. His hair, smooth and glossy hung neatly to his shoulders and framed his finely sculptured face. The smooth cheekbones emphasised the hypnotic cat eyes that stared enticingly out at the artist, tempting him to kiss the slightly smirking lips.

Angel glanced critically over both pictures, making sure that they were perfect – nothing else would suffice. He traced a finger over the thick pencil line on the gentleman's picture, slightly smudging the graphite lines but all in all adding something to the piece. He closed his eyes, branding both images onto his brain and a small crystalline tear dropped to land on the man's lips. Unable to do anymore Angel rolled both pictures up and tied them both with a piece of ribbon before slipping them into their bags. He dug a shallow grave and placed both bags in it, their black drawstrings entwining as lovers were wont to do. He pushed the earth over the bags and pulled himself up. He left the glen with a whispered "Goodbye."

The streets were quiet despite the hour, eleven o'clock and alls well. Angel passed a lamppost that had a tattered and wind torn missing poster taped to it. Something about it drew his attention and he stared at the face of a boy Connor's age. Sandy blonde hair and hazel eyes and a pouting mouth stared back at him. White light exploded behind Angel's eyes and he took off running as fast as he could towards the boy's hideaway in the subway tunnels.

"Wow."

For the past half hour Wes had explained the nature of Cordelia's visions to the uneducated amongst them and in doing so had revealed to them both a very different Cordelia Chase, a girl that they had never known, and a new Angel. Two heroes that did everything they could to save one another time and time again. He told of how Doyle had died and passed the visions to Cordelia, how she had kissed everyone that crossed her path to get rid of them, how Vocah had unleashed the world's pain onto her through them, how the Pyleans' worshipped her as a Princess because of them, how Wolfram and Hart used them against Angel and finally how they led her to become a demon. 'Wow' had really been the only way to respond to the tale.

"So now Angel is the Seer?"

Willow had listened with rapt fascination as Wes described how the Powers had communicated to the group and how pure the gift was. She knew many witches in the Coven who had the gift of foresight but none of them actually had true visions from the Powers. To her, a student of the magicks, this was mind-blowing. Giles was fascinated by the topic too – but for a slightly more impure reason. Angel could be of great use to the Council if this was true. His visions would give them a great advantage. The rest of the Scoobies were in awe and a little confused by what it meant but were taking it as proof that Angel was considered good.

Everyone else was worried. Spike had seen visions take their toll on Dru for over a hundred years and these sounded worse than hers. Plus with all the other bollocks in Angel's head he was worried that these may drive him insane. A thought that was being shared by the others of the group.

"But Wes man, what about what Skip showed Cordy?" Gunn tried not to arouse suspicion with that comment and was quite successful.

"Given the fact that Skip had his own agenda at the time I am going to take his recommendations with a fairly hefty pinch of salt. However, Angel's visions are different from Cordelia's."

"How so Muffin?"

"Well, actually Lorne I was going to ask your advice on this. He says that the visions are painful but only when the occurrence is urgent. He also told me that he has other visions – premonitions. Yesterday, before he came into the conference room I noticed him by the door. He then turned to glance into the foyer and seconds later the two clerks collided and began screaming at one another. He didn't seem surprised. At the time I thought that he was just out of sorts so I ignored it. Now though I think he saw it happen before it actually did. What do you think?"

He turned hopeful and inquisitive blue eyes to the green demon, who had a thoughtful look on his face.

"Not sure Crumpet… but they sound like the real deal to me. I know some demons that may be able to tell me more though."

"Ok so that is one less thing to worry about then."

"Poor Angel, he's really suffering isn't he?" Fred's empathetic voice resonated in all of them, twanging on the strings of their consciences making them vibrate with worry and guilt. No one had anything to say. Except Andrew…

"He's like Destiny, except not blind or an old women…"

He was cut off by a sharp smack from Dawn.

For a while they were all silent, each contemplating the revelations of the evening and their potential ramifications. It was Willow who broke the silence, commanding a great deal of respect with her gentle and well thought out words.

"So what do we do now? We don't know that Gabriel isn't a threat to Angel – or us – and we do need to find him. But what we really need is a plan, something that covers all the bases and leaves Angel with an out."

Everyone nodded their agreement and Wes breathed a huge sigh of relief. His final gambit had paid off. He knew that, for Giles at least, the prospect of harming a declared warrior for good would be very hypocritical and it had swung the sympathies of Buffy and Xander. He sunk into the comfy leather chair and passed the books to everyone. He didn't notice Spike pick up the sketch book and flip through it, casting venomous glares at his 'rival' and being heartbroken by the images of himself. He'd never forgive himself if he'd fucked this up for good.

They hadn't been researching long when the office door opened to admit a bloodied and bedraggled Angel. He was covered in demon gore, a deep blue gunky fluid that was presumably blood. His shirt was ripped to sheds and the furrows of claws were visible through the scraps of material. There was also a nasty looking scratch on his face and arm. Despite his appearance, Spike knew he wasn't hurt – he couldn't smell that intoxicating aroma that was Angel's blood. He looked exhausted. Angel stopped dead when he saw the congregation gathered around his conference table. He saw a flash of guilt on Wes' face and suddenly understood.

"So they know?" His voice was low and husky with fatigue. His shoulders slumped a little more and he leant on the door frame for support.

"Yes, Angel I know I…" Wes was cut off mid apology by a nodding Angel. He gave a forced smile.

"Thanks. I couldn't have told them. Thanks for knocking me out too."

The LA group gave a light laugh at Angel's dry humour and the combination of embarrassment, amusement and guilt that danced across Wes' expression all at once making him look a little odd.

"Pet, what happened?"

So focused on Wes, Angel had failed to notice Spike move towards him. Those were the first direct words that he had spoken to Angel in almost a week and Angel found himself tongue tied. A part of him felt like a hormonal teenager whose major crush was finally noticing them and the other part felt wary. He didn't trust that Spike wasn't acting concerned because of what Wes had said. He didn't want Spike's pity – he wanted his love. He saw genuine concern in the blue eyes that he believed more beautiful than any sapphire and desperately wanted to believe them but he couldn't. He had to stay strong – this was going to be a hard enough night as it was.

"Vision. Boy in trouble with a demon. Killed the demon."

He shifted nervously under everyone's scrutiny, unable to look them in the eyes. He felt as if he'd been caught sneaking in late.

"Umm… I'm gonna…"

He motioned to the elevator indicating that he was going to go and take a shower and change. Everyone nodded in agreement. And he moved towards the only route to the penthouse. Spike desperately wanted to follow him, to talk to him on his own but realised that now wouldn't be the best time. Angel was too worn out and he didn't want to add any more pressure to that.

"Yes, you do that Angel and when you come back we can discuss what we have to do."

Angel came to an abrupt halt and moved back towards Giles. Fear and anger clenched at his gut and he hoped that that comment didn't mean what he thought it did.

"Sorry Giles, what did you mean by that?" His voice was perfectly neutral and his features were schooled into a practised poker mask.

"I meant that we'll decide how to deal with Gabriel."

Angel hung his head and summoned all of his courage. Overcoming his sudden nausea and his fatigue he looked the Watcher dead in the eye.

"There is no we here Giles. You lot aren't involved. I'll deal with Gabriel – alone."

Cries of outrage met his declaration and he stood strong, weathering the storm. Eventually, fed up of being treated as nothing one minute and the centre of the universe the next, Angel's infinite patience found its limits.

"Enough! None of you are coming with me on this! I am going alone because that is what I have to do! This is nothing to do with any of you and I am not going to turn up like a coward with you lot to hold my hand! I owe him more than that! I don't care if you do or don't believe that I'll go through with it but I am going on my own and I will have you all locked up here if that's what it takes!"

Angel was surprised that they had all shrunk back from him during his little explosion. He guessed that they weren't used to him losing his cool.

What he didn't know was that his face had morphed.

Gone were the deep chocolate eyes and in their place were deep golden ones. Not the yellow of vampire eyes but a reddish gold – like burnt gold. They were flashing with anger and power, both of which were rolling off him in waves so strong that even the 'normal' humans amongst them could taste it. His canines had lengthened too. They weren't the usual ugly jagged fangs but elegant points just lengthened enough to stand out from his other teeth. He looked like the romanticised vampire of Hollywood but that wasn't what worried them… they could all tell that he didn't know he'd changed. He was unaware of his body's reaction to his anger – 250 year old Master Vampires didn't lose control like that. Nor did they look like he did.

"What is going on with you Peaches?"

Spike moved towards him, very worried about this new development, and grabbed Angel's arm so as to turn him away from Giles. As soon as his hand clamped down on Angel's wrist, Angel screamed…

_He'd been here before – it was familiar but he couldn't tell why… There were voices, shouting and screaming… A voice was yelling, louder than the rest, crying and begging for them to stop. He moved through the… apartment… as if in a dream. The edges of his vision were blurred and the features of the rooms were distorted… He could see an open door – white light spilling out of it but the white was edged in shadow and the shadow grew as he got closer. It was as if he were underwater… everything was sluggish and muted and he couldn't move as fast as he wanted to…_

_After what felt like an eternity he reached the door. He saw three figures in the room and there were other shapes lingering on the edges of his vision but the three were clear… it was as though they were in a spotlight. Two of the figures were fighting and the third – the one that was begging, was on the floor… on their knees… trying to stop them…_

_One figure was wrapped in what looked like green velvet… it cloaked every inch of him… except for the black wings that broke free of his back and were held high and proud – bristling with their own anger. The second fighter was swathed in black but a brilliant gold light was exploding from within him… a blue halo surrounded his body. His posture was as aggressive as the other figure's…but there was a ferocious passion there too, an awesome force of passion…_

_The kneeling figure had wings too, but these were white with blackened edges… as if they had been charred… His wings weren't proud… they fell behind him… touching the floor and showing the figure's despair as well as any facial expression could. This one was a mix though… he was cloaked in red but the same golden light broke through the thick fabric…_

_Suddenly an arrow whistled past his head… he couldn't see who had fired it but it triggered something in the fighters… they launched themselves at each other…_

_His vision exploded into dust… _

Reality flooded back in.

He felt someone try to touch him but he threw them off. He was shaking and screaming and seeing the same thing over and over. The thing was, he didn't know who died; just that one of the people he loved more than anything was going to kill the other…

When he came too he pulled himself back so that he was huddled against his desk. How did he stop this? If he told, then they would have Gabriel killed because Spike deserved to live more. If he didn't tell then it might happen by accident. He couldn't stop this! There was no way to save one without the other dying… He had lost…

He felt Spike's arms wrap around him, panic flooded his system and he bolted from them and from the room. He could hear them following him as he fled from the building. He knew LA better than all of them and he was faster, he knew where he was going as well. He just had to stay ahead of them all. If they weren't with him then he could get to Gabriel first…

He had been so wrong. He had thought that he would be able to kill Gabriel if he couldn't get him to leave… but that vision… oh he had been so very wrong. He loved Gabriel as much as he had ever done in his life – he couldn't lose him. Not now, not ever…

He didn't stop running the whole time that it took to get to Cordelia's apartment. They had stopped following him after ten blocks, Spike after twenty odd but they wouldn't find him here. None of them even knew that he owned the place. He'd bought it after Dennis had forced the new occupants out. Cordy had loved Dennis and he'd wait until Dennis was ready to accept another tenant.

"Where would he go?"

Spike was now edging past furious and towards terrified. He had never thought about how Angel would view Buffy coming to town. He had been convinced that she would come between them because of their feelings for her. He had totally forgotten that Angel only ever committed to one love at a time. He would still care for Buffy but he wouldn't love her. He wasn't an adulterer. He may have slept with many men and women but he would never cheat. Spike had been so flattered by the attention that he had received from the Scoobies, people he had died to help, delighted to finally be part of the group that he had been blinded. All he had ever wanted was to be accepted for who he was, to be treated like a man and the Scoobies had been treating him as a dear friend. He had never stopped to consider that he hadn't had to die for Angel to prove his worth. He had just loved him and Angel had given himself over so completely that Spike had had him mind body and soul. He held all that Angel was.

And he had thrown it away.

Now he wanted it back and he would kill whatever stood in his way.

"I don't know Spike; it is something that I would have expected his lover to know!"

Wes was scared. Actually he was hurtling past scared and towards terrified. He knew how horrific visions were from what Cordelia had told him and how painful. He also knew that they were even more painful for Angel, especially right now. Angel had to be terrified. He would be remembering what Cordy had said about him being driven mad by the visions. So at the moment he wasn't concerned about Spike's pettiness.

"Look, leave Spike alone, it isn't his fault that Angel had a fit and ran off!" Buffy didn't know what was going on but she was tired of him getting the blame for Angel acting like a crazy person.

"Actually Buffy I would say that most of this is Spike's fault. You don't claim someone and then spend a week with an old lover! Not when it's Angel and he has given so much! Been through so much!"

"And we don't know that? We know what Angel has been through Wesley, we know him."

"No Buffy, you all just got to know a pretty façade that Angel put up to hide who he was! I am sure that he told you that he was raped when he was a child or that he only got by on the streets as a prostitute? Do you know what happened to him in Hell? Or perhaps you are aware of the fact that he was in love with Cordelia and lost her to something he trusted and could never hope to fight! I am sure that you know all of that!"

Wes couldn't believe what he had just said. He had just told every one of Angel's most valued secrets in a fit of temper. He had betrayed Angel just as surely as Spike had.

"He was in love with Cordelia?" Buffy was shocked. Somehow she had known that Angel had a life outside of Sunnydale but the fact that he actually had a life she wasn't part of shocked her to the core. She looked around and saw that her friends were just as shocked as she and that Spike looked ready to kill Wesley along with all of Angel's other friends.

"Don't… I know… I… kill me later. We need to find him now! That vision showed him something, well if I had to guess he either saw Gabriel's death or Gabriel coming after us! Don't be fooled, he is in love with Gabriel; Angel will try to keep him safe. Especially now. He… I dread to think what he'll do for this. We have brought Angel lower than ever before, he has had a mask to hide behind before, he doesn't now. He is scared and alone and he will do something stupid."

"Wes is right you guys. You don't know this Angel. You don't know how far he'll go. He'd end the world to save a loved one, he opened a portal to Pylea to find Cordy, and he killed Jasmine. He'll fight for this." Fred knew that this was dangerous. She had seen Angel angry and sad and dangerous but never terrified. She was scared for him and scared that she may lose a friend tonight.

"He loves him?" Spike deflated at the idea of that. He had never thought that he might have competition for Angel's affections. For the life of him he couldn't work out why he had thought out that. Who wouldn't want Angel? Why wouldn't there be an old lover? Angel had 250 years of lovers, why wouldn't any of them still want him as much as Spike did?

"I think that he does Spike. I think he may still love you, but you have hurt him so much and not even noticed it. For God's sake, Harmony saw more than you did! But that isn't the problem at the moment; you can try to get him back once we get him back!"

"Wes man, I think I know where he is… well at least it's where I'd go if I were Angel."

"Where?"

"Dennis'."


	9. Confrontation

Gunn didn't want Wolfram and Hart to know about Angel's prospective bolt hole just in case he was actually using it. He also didn't want the Scoobies to know because judging by the way Angel had reacted to them and to the vision they were a source of Angel's fear and pain, so he spoke in friend only code. Luckily Fred and Wes were smart…

"Of course… Where else would he feel safe after the hotel?" Wes went to his office and grabbed his coat. "Gunn, Fred and Lorne, you guys come with me the rest of you stay here."

"No bloody way! I want to find Angel and I need to go! I don't care what you say Percy! I have to make this right."

Spike was storming towards the doors, willing the tears that were marring his blue eyes away. A strong hand clamped on his arm and he turned expecting a small blonde slayer to be on the end of it. Instead there was a stone faced ex-Watcher.

"You might be what he is running from."

Spike felt as if a stake had been pushed through his chest at that very moment. Could that really be the truth of the situation? Had it come so far that Angel would run from him? He knew deep down in his heart, in the places so dark that he refused to visit them that it was. He had abused Angel more thoroughly than the Master could have ever managed. He had ripped Angel to shreds but he hadn't been there to pick up the pieces. He had broken every single promise that he had ever made to Angel just because of Buffy.

He looked up at Wes with hopeless blue eyes and willed him to understand his need to go, but it didn't look as though he was going to be swayed. For once, Gunn was the practical member of the group.

"As much as I agree with English on this and as much as I don't want to hurt Angel more I think that we could use a bit of muscle on this… just in case."

High above the City of Angels carried on invisible wings, pain, fear and desperation moved towards their target… they hit with the precision and force of an inter-continental ballistic missile.

Angel was curled up in a ball on the sofa in Cordy's apartment, shaking with fear. He didn't want either of them to die and yet he didn't know how to save them. The vision showed that his desperate pleas had fallen on deaf ears, that they had ignored him and faced off against one another. What else could he do? If he left LA he doubted that would stop them – it would only stop him having to witness. Then again it may draw Gabriel away… but he'd have to leave Spike…

Every so often a small gust of air blew over him in a gentle caress and he knew that Dennis was trying to offer some support but there was nothing that he could do. He wondered if it was easier to be a ghost – you can't be hurt physically but there was still the emotional pain that came with existing. Was it worth it? Was all the heartache really worth it just to be able to walk the earth? Wouldn't he rather have oblivion? Oblivion couldn't hurt him; oblivion couldn't break him into thousands of tiny pieces and refuse to put them back together at the end. Oblivion seemed peaceful. It seemed the best option. He had tried to imagine his life without Spike, his life without the possibility of Gabriel… it was the blackest despair that he could conjure. He knew that he couldn't allow one of them to kill the other because if they did he'd lose them both. He'd never forgive either of them for such an act. He was the only criminal here, he should have dealt with Gabriel last night on the roof or he should have made Spike acknowledge him. He had let them walk all over him and the result was that he might lose them both forever.

Or he'd lose himself. Not for the first time did Angel consider running – really running. Not to a high roof top or an old apartment but away… far away… somewhere they wouldn't look for him. He doubted that would work though. Gabriel would follow him if he had to and he couldn't see Spike letting him… no he could. Could he release Spike that way? Would they all just move on if Angel wasn't there to cause problems? He had destroyed all of them at some point or other. The cruelty that he had unleashed as Angelus or signing that damned contract… surely they'd be better without him to hurt them further? He wasn't worth all of the pain that they were forced to suffer. Cordy and Doyle had both lost their lives because of him… then there was Darla, Holtz, Jenny Calendar, Daniel, Penn, Drusilla, Spike… then Buffy whose first love was two and a half centuries older than her and had hurt her more than anyone should be hurt in their lives… there were thousands of graves that had been dug because of his hands. Was he really worth this?

Tears rolled down his cheeks as he remembered everything that he had done in his life. The disappointment that he had seen in his father's face when he had been caught stealing or seducing the maid. The pride and awe on Darla's when he had wanted to kill the entire village. The horror on Dru's as he had turned her below a crucifix, seducing her into his bed as he went. The screams as he'd beaten William until there was only the smallest amount of blood left in his veins. He started to gasp for air that he didn't need, hyperventilating through the horror of his actions. He knew that he had to calm down so that he could help Gabriel avoid death. He knew that he shouldn't be considering it but he was going to help him escape and if he broke down now he would hurt the only person in the world that he had never harmed. He couldn't do that to Gabriel.

He pulled himself out of his tight ball and started to breath as he would if doing tai chi. In and out. In and out. Deep, slow, steady breaths to bring his sanity back to him. In and out. He felt the peace begin to wash over him and he closed his eyes focusing on his breathing. He had to do this for Gabriel…

_A black marble plinth rose from the floor of the room. On it sat a glowing golden ball. It was small and looked as fragile as glass yet he didn't think that it was made of glass… Directly behind the plinth was a large throne made of the same black marble. They looked so stark against the relief of the rest of the room. White marble floors and walls and twelve other chairs…Except… the wall behind the black throne…_

_At the very top of it was a white inverted three point star, a crowning glory on the black wall. From the bottom point extended what could almost be a family tree – except their were no names just strange symbols, glyphs… he didn't know what they meant… The first layer had twelve glyphs on it… twelve chairs… He continued to stare at the wall hoping to be able to decipher something from it but there was nothing. He watched as a deep red – almost black – globule formed in the centre of the star. It ran down the bottom point and like a stream of water, ran along each line of the tree and into each of the fifty or so glyphs. Once it reached them, they glowed, first red then gold building to a searing white light. The fluid still flowed until it reached the bottom of each line. Then something… more strange… happened… the fluid drained out of each glyph except two – the star and a strange looking H entwined with a K curving out of one of the uprights and wrapping itself around the H. It was like an H within a giant three surrounding it. He didn't understand it but all of the liquid was flowing to that very symbol. It built in light and then the fluid burst out creating another pathway… an inverted V with a flaming sun at its apex appeared and seared itself into the wall. He wasn't sure what it meant or how he was meant to understand it but he was trying - he really was._

_He turned round in a small circle to view the rest of the room. It was a great hall with just the twelve chairs and the black throne and the strange orb. He looked back to the wall and started in shock. Stood before the throne was a man watching the wall, his back to Angel. He bent his head as if in prayer and then he straightened. Angel tried to speak, to ask him what was going on when the man turned to him and his breath was snatched away…_

_He was indescribable… All Angel was aware of was a honey colour skin, titian hair with strands as red as blood and golden as the sun… and burnt golden eyes gazing at him with… pride…_

"_Angel."_

"Angel! Petit you have to wake up, come on Mon Ange, come back to me."

Gabriel had never moved as fast in his life as he had when the smell of Angel's fear hit him. He had flown through the streets following the screaming scent and ended up in a set of stylish Spanish apartments. He followed his senses to an apartment door and although there was no one living in the flat there was actually someone 'living' there – besides Angel. A ghost couldn't stop him from entering the apartment but could make it difficult for him once he was in their. Especially if it was an established spirit. He was pleasantly shocked when the door opened for him and he was pushed in by a forceful air. His heart was in his mouth when he reached the sparsely furnished living area and saw Angel unconscious on the couch. Unable to smell blood – Angel's blood – in amounts that would suggest a normal reason for his state he started to worry. When Angel failed to stir even slightly in response he became very worried.

Dennis was also worried but as no vampire could hurt him – there was the occasional benefit to being dead – and as this one didn't seem to want to hurt Angel he allowed him in, despite Angel's request that no one got in – not even Wesley – because Angel needed help. Dennis understood fear and despair – he'd seen it on Cordelia's face after Doyle's death, after the visions, after a hard night helping people – but this was beyond him. Angel seemed distraught and if this vampire could help him Dennis wasn't going to stop him. So Dennis left Gabriel to help Angel and went to lurk in the hallway.

Gabriel kept talking to Angel, unsure as what to do. He could sense no physical malady and had a horrible feeling that this was caused by those visions. So he sat down on the sofa and pulled Angel into his body and held him, whispering in his ear and stroking his hair, willing Angel to come back to him.

Gunn produced the keys to two of the seven seater people carriers that Wolfram and Hart owned and they all piled in to the sleek black vehicles, Wes and Gunn behind the wheels. They pulled out of the basement garage and into the LA night, slipping into the traffic like sharks, moving silently and swiftly towards their target, gliding in and out of the other cars like shadows.

Bleary brown eyes blinked and focused on worried green ones. Slowly Angel realised that he was lying on top of Gabriel, cradled gently in strong arms. He hadn't been truly held for a week, he hadn't woken in arms that were loving and protective and so real. He didn't think. For once Angel didn't analyse his actions before he acted. He burrowed further into the strong chest below him, revelling in the feel of someone holding him. He didn't resist when Gabriel brushed a kiss across his forehead, rather he leant up and pressed a soft kiss to Gabriel's lips. He meant it as a thank you but something in him snapped with that gentle touch and he melted into Gabriel's embrace.

Wes pulled the car into the curb and killed the engine. The motor had barely stopped turning and they were all out of the car, Gunn pulling in behind them. Wes turned to the group.

"Let me talk to him. If he wants you to leave you do so – don't make it any harder for him than it has to be." He glanced up at the building they were stood in front of, he felt as though he was in a horror movie and standing before the haunted house, his fear was that great. "I have an awful feeling that nothing will be the same after tonight."

It was only a whisper but everyone heard it as loud as a fog horn. They each felt that thick fear in the base of their gut and desperately tried to ignore it. It caused a ripple of terror to flow through Spike turning into a shudder that crept up his spine and ran over every nerve. He would be damned before he lost Angel.

Fred, wide eyed and ashen, slipped a shaky hand into Wesley's as they turned and went into the building.

Angel broke the kiss and scrambled off Gabriel and the sofa, retreating until his back touched the wall. Gabriel looked at the frightened boy that was shuddering in the corner. Something was very wrong with his boy.

"Angel? Tell me Petit, what is haunting you?"

Wide eyes stared at him in a silent plea – Angel didn't want to tell him. He wasn't going to accept that. He moved towards Angel, slowly and calmly and squatted down in front of him. He stroked Angel's face, trying to get him to calm down and Angel lent into the touch, tears rolling down his cheeks.

"I saw it."

"Saw what Angel?"

Hopeless brown eyes stared up at him, so full of fear and love that Gabriel withdrew his hand for a moment. Before brushing his thumb over the quivering lips. He moved closer.

"Mon Ange?"

"I saw them kill…" his eyes widened and darted around the room. It was here. His vision had taken place here. "No!"

Angel spun on Gabriel and lightening fast got to his feet and holding Gabriel in a vice like grip began to drag him to the door.

"We've got to get out of here!"

His voice was strained and his hold on Gabriel was relentless. His nails bit into Gabriel's flesh drawing blood despite the fact that he was quivering like a leaf. He reached the door and gripped the handle.

Wes led them down the corridor towards Cordy's old home, his sense of dread building with every step. Once they reach the door they silently they all looked at one another and agreed that Wes would be the first in. He reached out and turned the handle.

The door opened a crack…

The door slammed shut with a resounding bang that ricocheted up both Wes and Angel's arms. Wes tried pushing the door as Angel, so scared for Gabriel's safety that he failed to sense his friends' presence, frantically started pulling at it.

"What the bloody hell are you playin' at Percy?" Spike's hissed comment was joined by a low growl and a flash of amber eyes.

Angel froze when he heard that voice… This couldn't be happening! They couldn't have found him so quickly.

"I'm not doing anything Spike! The door… Dennis? Its Wesley… could you let me in?"

He tried the handle again and Angel watched as Dennis slammed the door for him again. It was as if he realised how dire the situation was but Angel didn't have anytime to be grateful. He whirled on Gabriel with wide eyes and shock white skin to find Gabriel looking like the devil himself, glaring at the door.

"Don't…"

"Angel? Is that you? Look, just let me in and we can talk – the others will stay out here just…"

"No! Go away Wesley! Please!"

"Angel, just…"

"Go away Watcher."

The new, slightly accented voice caused Wes to stagger back from the door in shock and the others to stare at the door intently unable to decide whether they believed that Angel had betrayed them and they were shocked at it or that they were shocked at themselves for bothering to trusting Angel. Spike growled deep and low. There was no mistaking the meaning of the growl, it was purely territorial. It was the bone rattling growl of an Alpha Male who's found someone else marking in his territory. It was about dominance, aggression and possession and there was no mistaking that. In Spike's eyes Angel was his. He'd accepted the claim that Spike had placed on him and had lived as his pet for a month – despite the act that they had put on for everyone around them. To all vampires such acts meant that Angel was Spike's unquestionable property and no other Master Vampire was allowed to go near to him in such away – they needed his permission.

"Angel. Open this door. Now."

Spike's voice was unnaturally calm and the tone was one that no one had every heard him use before. It was still – there was no other way to describe it. Each word fell like a weight and carried the maleficent tone of a funeral knell. Instinctively a part of Angel heeded his Master's voice, but another part, a smaller but powerful part of him was pulling away from that voice. He didn't get a choice in what happened though as Gabriel caught him by the arm and pulled him back from the door. He looked up into those green, green eyes and he knew that he couldn't open the door. He couldn't allow that prophecy to come true…

"Please… please go away."

Spike growled again at Angel's refusal to do as he was commanded, he knew that if Angel began to pull against the Claim he would be irreversibly damaged.

"Angel, I am not asking you, I am telling you to open this door. Right now."

Again there was the tone of voice that had all the cheer of a graveyard in winter. It was terrifying for all to hear but for Angel it was anguish. He heard it in every cell of his body; a small echo of what Spike said constantly repeating and commanding and it was becoming harder to fight. Before he could answer though, he heard another growl. Low and deep and powerful.

They all did. Spike did. Gabriel was challenging him and he wasn't going to back down. When it came to Claims there was a protocol involved. There were only three ways that a Claim could be realised from its master – the death of the Master, the death of the Claim or the Claim's jesses being handed over to another. The last hardly ever happened though. For a vampire to take a Claim it was a serious affair and one that was only undertaken with eternity in mind. They 'cared' for the creature that they owned, whether it is about sex, a power that they held or bloodline tradition, there was a want for the Claim, a want that went beyond average desire and hurtled towards obsession. Another Master wasn't even allowed to touch a Claim without the Master's permission. There were many reasons for this, but there were three that stood out more than the others, three that meant more than the others. The first was scent. A Claim had very little of its own scent left on its skin although its still there in the blood. Instead, they smell like their Master. It can take years for the process to be completed fully, entirely dependant upon the relationship between the Claimer and Claimed and in the early stages of Claiming this can be disrupted. The second was simple – possession. They owned the Claim and it was there's to do with what they wanted. The third was about power. Having a Claim, having the ability to claim another vampire indicated that you were a powerful vampire; it elevated you in vampire society.

A growl like that meant only one thing – Gabriel was challenging Spike over Angel. Spike had two options fight or surrender and he had never backed down from anything in his life… He growled back.

"No… please don't do this…"

He was tired. He was so very tired. His head was hurting and his heart was breaking and he was tired of it all. He didn't have the energy to stand anymore. Gabriel caught him as he slid boneless to the floor. He could hear yelling outside and Gabriel murmuring in his ear but nothing made sense…

_Black wings… White wings marked with black… _

He could hear Wes yelling through the door telling him to open it so that they could talk. He heard Spike's commanding tones telling him to get out of the room and away from Gabriel, threatening Gabriel with everything that he had. He could hear Willow and Fred trying to calm the situation down. He could hear Gabriel telling them to leave now – that Angel didn't need them here at the moment. He heard his own voice begging them to leave, begging Dennis not to let them in. But everything was muted, fuzzy.

_A blue halo and a golden core… a broken angel with a golden core…_

It was as though he knew it was happening but he felt like it was happening to someone else. Someone who wasn't him. He was just a detached spectator moving through the scene saying the lines that he was expected to say but he heard nothing really, he felt nothing. He just wanted to escape, to get Gabriel out of there… he wanted everything to go back to how it was before any of this. Go back a month… go back 240years. Then he heard the words that broke him from his mind spin…

"Move!" It was Buffy's voice commanding total obedience.

There was a fierce bang on the door and he just knew that she was going to break it down. He scooted over to the door and braced it with his weight.

"Gabriel, please go! I saw them kill you! Get out of here!"

"Angel move from the door now!"

"No! Please, just let me sort this out!"

The door rattled again, giving him the only answer that he was likely to receive. He was forced forward slightly by the force of the impact. He moved back to his position. He looked at Gabriel and tried to put everything he was feeling into that look.

"Gabriel… please…"

Gabriel shook his head and fell into a defensive posture. He knew exactly what was behind that door and he wasn't going to back down. He had come for Angel and he wasn't going anywhere without him.

"Please, just get out of here!"

The pounding on the door was becoming fiercer and fiercer and he knew that he and Dennis could only hold them off for so long. Behind that cherry wood door were two slayers, a powerful witch and an angry vampire, and Dennis was only one ghost and he wasn't in good shape. He needed Gabriel to leave and leave now – if he didn't then someone was going to become ash and he was going to lose a part of himself along with them or his own life in an attempt to stop it. He would die for both of them – he loved them that much… he just wasn't sure that they really felt the same for him but he was prepared to risk it.

"Not leaving you to face them alone Mon Ange – you mean too much for me to do that."

"They'll kill you."

There was no hope in Angel's voice anymore. His entire body had closed in on itself and he could see no other future than death. The death of someone that he loved more than his own life. Gabriel refused to leave the shell of his love like this. He steeled himself and his green eyes turned an umbered gold and small fangs made themselves known.

"They are going to try."

Weak from all the heightened emotion racing round his system, Angel didn't have the energy to do anymore than crawl over to Gabriel and kneel at his feet. He stared into the green eyes that had watched over him so long ago and willed him to understand.

The cherry wood door exploded as Buffy's foot slammed through it.

All that greeted them was an empty apartment and an open window.

Angel had gone…


	10. Reclaimation

Four days. Angel had been gone for four days and no one had heard anything from him at all. He had just vanished… with Gabriel. He hadn't even gone back to Wolfram and Hart to get his things. For four days Spike had waited alone in the penthouse, hoping desperately that Angel would come back to him, but knowing in his heart that he really had no reason to. Spike hadn't dared to leave though. He needed to be here. It still smelled like Angel. He could still taste him on the mugs in the kitchen and the dark blue toothbrush in the bathroom.

When he had realised that Angel had gone, fled Cordelia's old apartment in order to protect Gabriel from them he wished that he could have just turned to dust. Instead he sank to his knees and stared out of the window, icy tears filled with hate and self recrimination eased themselves down over his cheeks and teased the corners of his lips, making him taste the misery that he had caused. His mind had stopped there and then. He had lost the most important thing in his life and he would have gladly greeted the dawn but Buffy had dragged his pliant form out of there.

He had spent the first day without Angel trapped in a cotton wool world of self-hatred. He looked at everything that he had done over the past few days trying to understand how he had let it all go so wrong. He found no answers there. He only found shame and heartache. He recalled the few times that he had looked at Angel and he had seemed withdrawn but he had been quickly distracted by the antics of a Scooby and thought nothing of it. He knew that he had betrayed Angel the moment he had seen them all in the office but he had been shocked. That was no excuse though and he knew that he would give his very soul to undo all the hurt that he had caused.

Wes, Gunn and Lorne still weren't talking to him although they acknowledged his feelings, he knew though he would never be able to make this up to them. He had cost them their dearest friend. Only Fred had come to him; tried to speak to him, tried to get him to feed, tried to stop him cutting himself. He hadn't been able to do anymore than cry and bury himself in her embrace, all the while aware of the fact that he deserved none of her comfort. When the Scoobies had come into Wolfram and Hart to say goodbye Buffy had asked him to come to Rome with her saying that she didn't understand what had happened between him and Angel, but that they could work something out. He had hit her. Hard. Then he had broken down again when Wes said that he might as well go – he'd already paid for it. Willow had promised to try to find Angel for them and in the end she was the only one that left on good terms with any of them.

The only hope that they had was that Willow had been able to confirm that Angel was still alive – she just didn't know where.

They had searched the entire city – Special Ops did sweeps every hour, as did the mystics – but Angel had vanished. So all Spike had left of him was the physical echoes that lingered in the room. He held a shirt when he tried to sleep, unable to believe that he would ever be able to sleep without the aroma of warm honey and ginger that was Angel. More tears made their way down his face as he realised that the scents were fading. In a week or so he wouldn't even have that.

"This is what I did when Gabriel left me all those years ago. I almost destroyed myself waiting for him to return."

The soft whiskied voice stroked over his entire body, charging it with life and Spike shot off the bed. There, bathed in moonlight, but melting in and out of the shadows as he was dressed all in black, was Angel.

He looked tired and calm, but Spike could smell the anguish that was pouring off him. He couldn't help the flare of jealousy that sprung to life as he wondered if the only reason Angel was here was because Gabriel had left him again. He stamped it out as he realised that it didn't matter why he was here – he was here! He now had the chance to try to apologise, to make things right again – to undo all the hurt that he had caused. He stepped to Angel and ran a trembling hand over his cheek, only this physical contact would guarantee to him that Angel was real and not a hallucination born of a tortured mind. Soft skin met his and he felt the tears build anew.

"You're really here."

A soft whisper in the darkness echoed by the gentle caress that he lay upon the cream skin. He moved in closer so that he was almost touching Angel top to toe.

"I needed to get something."

Spike recoiled at the implications behind that statement. Angel wasn't staying. Angel was leaving. He had lost him. Bugger that!

He moved his body back to Angel's and snagged the silky brown hair in a strong hold dragging him down and claiming those soft pink lips in a bruising kiss. Spike poured out all his passion in that kiss, all of the anguish he had felt over the past few days, all the love and need that he had for the gorgeous soul he was fiercely clinging to. He felt Angel's lips begin to bleed under the intensity of his kiss but he couldn't stop, he wasn't able to let go. Strong hands slid up his arms and pushed him away, holding him at a distance and preventing him trying to kiss his way back into that heart.

"No Spike. I can't – please…"

Angel's voice was a hoarse whisper, strained from the hurt at seeing Spike again and at being kissed like that. Arousal and anguish – an uncomfortable combination. He pulled away, unable to remain so close to that lithe form that he loved and feared so much. He couldn't ever hate Spike but he would always fear the hold the blonde had over his heart. Fear the day that Spike would set out to hurt him and utterly destroy him in the effort.

"Angel, I'm so sorry – please just stay, hear me out! Please, that's all I want… let me explain!"

Spike had never begged for anything in his life, but he was begging now. He was choking on his tears and begging to be allowed to speak, because he couldn't bear to lose what he had finally found. He moved towards Angel and choked back a bitter cry as Angel retreated from him. In those sable eyes he saw enough hurt to weigh down the world. He could see Angel breaking before his eyes and it was his entire fault. He could have stopped this had he only looked up from the pedestal that the Scoobies had placed him on and seen the real hero.

"Please, Angel… I love you so much…"

"Not enough to keep me though. You promised you'd never hurt me… you destroyed me Spike. Not even Hell managed that… I love you with everything I am, I gave you everything I was… but it wasn't enough…"

"It was, it is! Angel, I am so in love with you… I can't lose you… I won't…"

He caught Angel's arm in a firm grip and tugged, pulling Angel towards him. Overcome by his tears, Angel was pliant in his arms and he wrapped himself around the shuddering figure. For a moment the world just stopped for Spike as he held Angel, revelling in how right it felt. He couldn't help the happy sigh into Angel's skin as he realised that Angel didn't smell like Gabriel – well not like he'd had sex with him in the past four days. A small frisson of hope began at the base of his spine. He could see a small light at the end of the very dark tunnel he was in…

He placed a small kiss on Angel's neck. When that wasn't rejected he placed another, working his way higher and higher until he reached Angel's mouth. The kiss was like their first one only a month ago, tender and loving and heartbreakingly soft. Spike gentle mapped his away around the familiar mouth that he knew he would never be able to do without. Angel tasted sweet like his honeyed skin but there was the spicy flavour of hurt lying underneath. He wanted to lick that hurt away so bad that he deepened the kiss. Inwardly he was crowing as Angel tentatively returned his caress.

They broke apart with soft lingering kisses. One of Spike's hand's had drifted to the small of Angel's back and the other was cupping his cheek. Angel had one on Spike's chest and the other on his hip – small, but to Spike immense, displays of trust.

"I love you Angel. I promise Pet, nothing like this will ever happen again. I love you too much."

Angel smiled faintly and pressed a truly loving kiss to Spike's lips and then another on his forehead before he pulled away. Tears gathering in his eyes.

"I can't stay Spike – no listen please… just listen. I love you more than anything. I love you more than I have ever loved anyone, even Gabriel but I can't stay. This? What we have? Its not a relationship Spike… it's an obsession. I am in so deep and it terrifies me because I know that you have the power to destroy me. You almost managed to this time and you weren't even trying. What happens when you try?"

"But I won't Angel. I promise that I won't ever hurt you… not gonna hurt you. Promise. Love ya too damn much to do that."

Spike was speaking quickly, slipping between his natural, upper middle class accent and his affected cockney one – his entire façade was crumbling at Angel's words. Angel wasn't rejecting him, he was fleeing him. He had hurt Angel more that he imagined. Suddenly a white hot flame of jealousy ripped through him.

"What 'bout your precious Gabriel?" The sneer wasn't even put on. It was there in every word and facial expression.

Angel shook his head wearily. "This has nothing to do with him. This is about me."

"Yeah, like he's not gonna come sniffing after you're arse… like you didn't just risk everythin in savin him. He a good fuck Angel?"

Spike was growling and his eyes were bleeding from blue to yellow and Angel stepped back, not wanting to get into a fight about this as well. He hadn't wanted to see Spike for this very reason… If he had just left then he wouldn't have to leave on a wave hate… he didn't want Spike to hate him and he knew that he would at the end of this.

"Spike! Please just listen to me… I was ready to kill Gabriel that night because it was the right thing to do. I spent the entire evening drawing – a way to say goodbye to him… but then, that vision… I saw the pair of you dust and I knew that I could let either of you die."

"Because you love us so much?" The sneer was stronger than ever.

"Yes and because you are both such a huge part of me. I realised through that vision that… if I killed Gabriel I'd kill a huge part of myself. Gabriel was the first person to ever love me. he was the first person in my life that didn't want anything from me… that didn't want to hurt me… he was my first love Spike. He repaired all the damage that Donal and my father did and he made me whole again – just like you did after the Master and Hell and… If I killed him Spike, that part of me – Liam – would die too. I thought that I could cope with that so I said goodbye to Liam too.

But that vision… that changed anything. The Power's were telling me that I couldn't afford to lose that part of me… I could let you kill him either because then I'd lose Gabriel, Liam and the part of me that is you. I would never have forgiven either of you for killing the other because you'd have killed me too. So I ran… and I had no other way out – you gave me no other way out. If you'd have let me talk to him, or listened to me at any point then… I don't know…"

"But you're still leavin' so you can't love me that much." It was back. That voice, the dead tone was back and it chilled Angel to the bone.

"Aren't you listening to me? You are the biggest part of my life… but it's more than that. You _are_ my life. There is this piece of me that you made and I am terrified of that part because all you have to do is leave me and I'll curl up and die. And it's not your fault. It's mine. I've let you and Gabriel and the Master and my father dictate who I am. I have never tried to find out who Angel actually is – there was always been someone in the background; someone whose expectation I had to live up to. I can't do that anymore – it'll destroy me. I need to work out who I am and I can't do it here."

Spike seemed to consider this for a moment and then he shook his head.

"No Angel… Ya know, I've had a few rejections in the past but that is the biggest load of bollocks that I've ever heard! You're a coward Angel! You're runnin from what everyone'll think of you. You're runnin back to your Daddy so…"

He was cut off when Angel's fist collided with his jaw hard enough to push him to the floor. That was it – Spike snapped. He lashed out at Angel catching him in an upper cut that was quickly followed by a side kick that sent Angel crashing into the wall. He quickly sprung to his feet but he didn't try to retaliate.

"If that's what you believe Spike then I guess we really are over."

The distressed waver to Angel's voice smashed through Spike's defences and he flew across the room, pinning Angel to the wall before he could blink. One arm was pressed across Angel's torso and the other was in his hair, roughly yanking it back, baring the side of his throat to Spike's lengthening fangs.

"You forgot one thing Pet, I claimed you… You're mine."

He sank his fangs into Angel's flesh, hard and deep. He ignored the fists that were banging on the wall and the body which was frantically trying to push away from him. Angel's struggles reminded his demon of all the kills that it missed and he bit down harder. This wasn't about passion this was about property. He ignored everything in favour of making Angel his property again.

Under the pull of the blood loss Angel began to sag in Spike's arms, nearing unconciousness. Spike moved the hand from his hair and wrapped it around Angel's waist and pulled him towards the bed.

"You're mine Angel. You gave yourself to me – willingly and 'm not lettin you go!"

As Spike pushed Angel down onto the bed, tearing at his trousers with desperate hands his frame of mind changed. He went from needing to own Angel to needing to love him, needing to bring Angel back to him. He ignored the hands pushing him away and the desperate voice that was begging him to stop. He needed to show Angel how much he loved him, how much he needed him, how much he wanted him. He tore at the poncy silk boxers and at the shirt that was hiding that perfect pale skin from his eyes and hands. The tearing of material and the harsh panting of an overly aroused vampire were the only sounds that could be heard in the penthouse.

Angel stopped fighting when Spike ripped his boxers from his body, somehow sensing that this was one of those inevitable parts of life. He couldn't help the chill that settled on him when he realised what was happening. Spike was raping him – not because he was consumed by blood lust but because he wanted him. And that was what changed everything for him. That was what stopped his fight. For the first time, he realised that Spike truly wanted him. Desperately wanted him. That didn't stop him from screaming when Spike brutally thrust into his unprepared hole and began to saw in and out as hard and fast and deep as he could.

Angel's scream pierced his consciousness and Spike realised with a wave of utter horror what he had done. He'd raped Angel. Again. He started to pull back but two strong arms wrapped round him and held him in place, deeply embedded inside Angel the strong hands cupped his face and he stared into the chocolate eyes that had trusted him not to do this very thing only a month ago.

"I love you."

Angel said the words with no pretence or force behind them. He simply stated what he knew to be the truth – he did love Spike.

Angel leant up and captured the cupid-bow lips with his own hoping that he could convey to Spike that he truly meant it. He didn't want this to destroy Spike because he knew that it wouldn't destroy him. Spike began to kiss back, slowly and gently and his tears mixed with their saliva making the kiss salty and sorrowful. Angel ran his hands into Spike's hair, down the t-shirted back until he reached the hem. He started tugging at the material until Spike obligingly pulled the offending item of clothing from his body. He kicked his jeans further down his legs, his buried cock jolting as he moved sending pleasurable shockwaves up Angel's body. Angel's hands never stopped their exploration, they ran over every muscle, every bone, every piece of flesh. They mapped every available piece of Spike's flesh and when they couldn't reach his legs, he lifted his own and ran them down the side's of Spike's legs. He touched every single part of Spike that he could, wrapping himself in Spike's flesh.

Spike didn't let up on Angel either. He kissed Angel everywhere he could, leaving a searing trail of saliva across Angel's lips, jaw, eyes, forehead, neck and shoulders. He laved at the bite mark until Angel was writhing under him due to its sensitivity. He bit down on a pebbled nipple rolling the other between his fingers. At no point did he stop his gentle and shallow thrusts, thrusts that purposefully missed Angel's prostate forcing Angel to push back against him in order to get what he wanted. Combined with the nipping, the touching, the kissing and the general feeling of Spike, Angel was going mad with need. He was babbling and grabbing at Spike trying to get relief from the tension that was coiling in his belly.

Suddenly, everything changed. Neither of them was sure what had happened to spark the change but something did… The pace changed and along with it did the actions. Spike stopped his teasing thrusts and began to glide in and out, slowly and smoothly, exerting pressure on Angel prostate with every move. His hands ran up and down Angel's sides as Angel wound one into his hair and used the other to trace feather light fingers over Spike's cheek bones, nose, lips and eyes. They didn't kiss. They needed to watch each other. Blue eyes gazed down into liquid chocolate ones, and apart from the colour, there was no difference between the two. Both glowed with love.

Love so deep that it came from their very souls.

Across lips, as intimate and private as any kiss and infinitely more precious, was whispered three little words – words that wars had been waged over, words that people die to hear – "I love you." And when they came, it wasn't with harsh screams of names or 'Yes!' it was with a silence – because words are often inadequate.

Spike pulled out of Angel and rolled off of him – pulling Angel with him and wrapping him up in bands of steel. He wasn't letting Angel go ever again. Even if that meant that they never left the bed. He felt tears roll down his cheeks and matching ones land on his chest. He pressed a tender kiss into the sweat slicked sable hair.

"I really do love you Angel."

"I love you too. More than anything. Please never forget that."

"I won't Angel – I won't ever forget you again."

Wrapped together, they fell into a weightless sleep – the type that can only be produced by peace.

He felt the morning sunshine break through the slats of the blinds that ineffectually tried to cover the windows. He revelled in the warmth that the light brought with it. Happily he inhaled deeply and smelt the night before. It had really happened – Angel had come back to him. Spike rolled over to look at Angel and wake him up in a very popular way.

He felt his heart jump into his throat. Angel wasn't in the bed.

He was alone, not just in the bed, but in the apartment.

On the coffee table were two objects. A piece of paper and Angel's Claddagh ring glinting in the morning sun. He picked up the piece of paper and recognised the words immediately. Donne. The name said more than the poem's words really.

Angel had left for good.

A pair of green eyes surveyed the city. He wasn't here anymore. He couldn't sense him… but he would. He'd waited over 240 years; he could wait a bit longer. Turning Gabriel walked into the LA night, not sure that he would ever be coming back here again. It all depended on where his hunt led him. He closed his eyes and let his mind drift.

There.

He smiled.

Blood always calls to blood.

He had his Childe to find.

From:

A VALEDICTION FORBIDDEN MOURNING

By John Donne

Our two souls therefore, which are one,   
Though I must go, endure not yet   
A breach, but an expansion,   
Like gold to aery thinness beat.

If they be two, they are two so  
As stiff twin compasses are two ;   
Thy soul, the fix'd foot, makes no show   
To move, but doth, if th' other do.

And though it in the centre sit,   
Yet, when the other far doth roam,  
It leans, and hearkens after it,   
And grows erect, as that comes home.

Such wilt thou be to me, who must,  
Like th' other foot, obliquely run;  
Thy firmness makes my circle just,

And makes me end where I begun.


End file.
